


In the Clutches of This Darkness

by enigmaticblue



Category: Stargate Atlantis, Stargate SG-1
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-26
Updated: 2012-08-26
Packaged: 2017-11-12 22:52:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 35,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/496545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enigmaticblue/pseuds/enigmaticblue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rodney should have known something was wrong after four weeks without a word from John. When Rodney gets John back, it's only to realize that things are irrevocably different, but he'll do his best to put the pieces back together again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [In Darkness, Light](https://archiveofourown.org/works/495910) by [danceswithgary](https://archiveofourown.org/users/danceswithgary/pseuds/danceswithgary). 



> WARNINGS: Torture, descriptions of child abuse, medical experiments. 
> 
> Written for the scifibigbang 2012.

“ _You and I made a pact, a deal that as we lay dying, we’d think about each other then, and smile as we’re taken in. I listened like a little child, to the story of your earthbound pilot. He plummeted so violent, his parachute not opening, and rushing into oblivion, he broke into that knowing grin. I think about that a lot, ‘cause a lot is what I’ve not got, and a smile is what I least expect, in the clutches of this darkness. You, I was surprised to hear, your velvet birdsong in my ear. The phone broke its silent stint. I pulled the cord and I needed it. You billowed like a bowl of silk, and slowed me from my ruining.”_ ~Hey Rosetta!, “We Made a Pact”

 

John wakes slowly, his aching muscles a harsh reminder of yesterday’s ordeal. But yesterday had been a Test Day, as had the day before, which means that John has today and maybe tomorrow as a respite.

 

The small body curled next to him shifts and snuffles, and John pats his shoulder. “Sleep,” he murmurs, knowing that Timos needs as much rest as he can get.

 

John hears a squeak, and their morning meal is shoved through the flap in the door. John takes the tray and looks over their options. Breakfast is even more sparse than usual, and John makes a mental calculation. He’d give the entirety of his portion to Timos, but John needs his strength for the next Test Day.

 

And John is all Timos has right now, so it’s not like he can risk death, not until he’s sure Timos is taken care of.

 

John eats a quarter of the dried fruit and a few bites of the glue-like substance that’s probably supposed to pass as porridge. He doesn’t touch the bread or the milk. Instead, he shakes Timos awake. “Come on, buddy,” John coaxes. “Time for breakfast. You know it’s a lot worse if it’s cold.”

 

Timos uncurls slowly, yawning and stretching before he crawls into John’s lap to eat. Timos leans back against John trustingly as he scoops up porridge with his fingers, eating quickly, before moving on to the fruit.

 

After the first couple of days, Timos hadn’t bothered to ask whether John had eaten breakfast, but Timos watches John like a hawk during lunch and dinner, insisting that John eat as much if not more.

 

Breakfast is John’s only shot at making sure Timos eats enough, and he does his best to make his inroads into the meal obvious enough to set Timos’ mind at ease, even if he doesn’t eat much.

 

When Timos has cleaned the dishes of every crumb, John takes the tray and pushes it back through the flap, and then settles in one of the corners of the room. Timos settles in John’s lap again, his shock of dark hair tickling John’s chin.

 

“Tell me a story,” Timos demands with the assurance of a child who knows he’ll get what he asks for. “Please.”

 

“What kind of story do you want, kiddo?” John asks.

 

Timos winds thin, pale arms around John’s neck. “Tell me about your family.”

 

John smiles and settles Timos on his lap more securely, rubbing a soothing hand down Timos’ back. “All right, then. Once upon a time, there was a man named Rodney, who was brilliant, and Ronon, who was strong, and Teyla, who was wise.”

 

“And their leader?” Timos asks.

 

“And their leader, John, who was brave and sometimes stupid,” John murmurs. “And they never left a man behind.”


	2. Chapter 2

The moment Rodney steps through the wormhole and into Atlantis’ familiar gate room, he knows something is wrong. For one thing, John’s conspicuously absent; for another, Woolsey’s there, wearing an even grimmer expression than usual.

 

“What happened?” Rodney demands as the uneasiness of the last few weeks blossoms into full-blown worry.

 

“Let’s talk in my office,” Woolsey replies, which does nothing to ease Rodney’s mind.

 

He wants to demand answers right there, but he knows Woolsey well enough by now to understand he won’t get results that way. So, Rodney just nods and follows him up to the office.

 

If it weren’t for John’s absence, Rodney would probably comment on how the city can’t function without him, but the truth is that it takes both of them—him _and_ John—to keep things running smoothly.

 

And Rodney had heard from John just once while he’d been on Earth, at the beginning of his trip.

 

“What’s going on?” he demands as soon as the door slides shut behind him.

 

Woolsey steeples his hands in front of his face. “We seem to have lost Colonel Sheppard.”

 

“What?” Rodney demands before he thinks better of the question. “Where are Teyla and Ronon?”

 

“They’re fine,” Woolsey assures him. “Teyla thought she might have a lead, so she and Ronon are off-world right now.”

 

Rodney thinks of the last month he’s spent on Earth, in cushy hotel rooms, giving speeches to undergrads who have no idea what it’s like to go through the gate and risk their lives—students who think sacrifice means giving up a few nights of sleep to meet a deadline.

 

“What happened?” Rodney asks brusquely.

 

Woolsey sighs. “We had word that Michael was interfering on a particular world, and Colonel Sheppard insisted on going. Teyla and Ronon were knocked unconscious, and Colonel Sheppard disappeared. By the time Zelenka had retrieved the gate addresses that had been dialed, they were long gone.”

 

“Why didn’t you let me know?” Rodney demands. “You could have called me back.”

 

“We thought we could find him,” Woolsey admits. “And you were doing important work on Earth to ease the way for declassification when that becomes a possibility.”

 

Rodney refrains from snarling by a sheer force of will. “How long has he been missing?”

 

“Four weeks,” Woolsey admits.

 

Rodney manages not to put his face in his hands. All he can think is that Woolsey and the rest are fucking idiots for failing to call him as soon as they’d lost John. “Do we know it was Michael?” Rodney asks.

 

“That’s the consensus,” Woolsey replies. “And the little information that Teyla and Ronon have been able to gather confirms it.”

 

Rodney takes a deep breath, holding on to his temper by reminding himself that yelling at Woolsey won’t do any good. “Tell Ronon and Teyla to find me as soon as they get back. And I want all the information you have on this situation.”

 

“I’ve already asked that it be sent to your email address here on the city,” Woolsey promises.

 

Rodney nods. “Great.”

 

He heads to his lab, trusting that John’s Marines will get his baggage to his quarters. The information Rodney needs comes through almost immediately, and he quickly skims all the mission reports he hasn’t seen for the last few weeks for anything of importance.

 

He should have known that something had gone wrong when John didn’t email after that first time. Even when they’d been kicked off Atlantis, John had kept in contact; he had called or emailed frequently—pretty much before every mission, and then afterwards to let Rodney know he was alive. After the first week of radio silence this time, Rodney should have known that something was wrong. He should have called the SGC and harangued Landry until he had answers.

 

Rodney is good at pestering people until he gets what he wants, and he should have used that.

 

It’s just that John had been distant in the weeks preceding Rodney’s departure, and Rodney had assumed—wrongly, it seemed—that their friendship had been ending. Rodney hadn’t managed to keep a friend for any length of time, so he hadn’t known what to expect, or what to think, or how to respond.

 

Zelenka pokes his head into Rodney’s lab a few hours after Rodney’s arrival. “Have you had a chance to review my report?”

 

“Yes, yes,” Rodney replies impatiently, waving him inside. “But there are some holes in your data.”

 

“There are no holes,” Zelenka protests. “I have given you all the data I collected.”

 

“So you say,” Rodney shoots back. “You have a list of gate addresses, but none of them have panned out?”

 

“We believe they transported Colonel Sheppard to several successive worlds before staying wherever they happen to be,” Zelenka replies. “Teyla and Ronon have visited many possibilities, but they have found no trace.”

 

Rodney believes himself to be smarter than pretty much anyone on Atlantis, but even he has to admit that there’s only so much to be done, only so many ways to search, when they’re up against someone like Michael, who knows how to work the gate network.

 

“Let’s go over this again,” Rodney says. “I want to know everything.”

 

By the time they’ve gone over all the possibilities, and all the planets that Teyla and Ronon have visited in the last few weeks, Rodney has his doubts they’ll be successful. He has no idea how he’s supposed to locate John when there are literally hundreds of planets to search.

 

And even if John is on one of those planets, Michael could have taken him miles from the gate, making it next to impossible to locate him.

 

“What about the _Daedalus_?” Rodney asks. “Colonel Sheppard has one of the new subcutaneous transmitters.”

 

“But which planet should they scan?” Zelenka counters. “If we can narrow down the options, perhaps the _Daedalus_ could scan the planet. Even if we had six planets. We have hundreds.”

 

Rodney scrubs his hands over his face. “There has to be a way to narrow it down.”

 

“When Teyla and Ronon find a trace, we will begin to pick up a trail,” Zelenka replies.

 

Rodney thinks about the endless possibilities, and he can’t help but wonder if they might have been able to narrow down the potential planets if only he’d been contacted sooner. “Why didn’t you email me?”

 

Zelenka shakes his head. “Mr. Woolsey asked us not to.”

 

Rodney scowls, but he’s not sure what he would have done differently under the circumstances. He’s fairly certain that Woolsey’s orders, combined with Rodney’s likely ire for losing John, resulted in silence about Sheppard’s disappearance.

 

He looks up when the door opens, feeling a sense of relief when Teyla and Ronon enter the lab. He’s not sure they have any more answers than he does, but they’re his team, and he’s missed them.

 

Not as much as he’s missed John, but he’s missed them.

 

“Rodney,” Teyla says, putting her hands on his shoulders and touching her forehead to his. “It is good to see you.”

 

Rodney puts his hands on her shoulders, feeling the warmth of her skin under his hands, smelling slightly spicy Athosian soap and sweat. “It’s good to see you, too.”

 

“McKay,” Ronon says, clapping Rodney on the shoulder with a huge hand. If Rodney had been standing, he probably would have staggered.

 

“Do you have any additional information?” Rodney asks hopefully. “I’ve gone over everything that Zelenka has, but it’s not enough.”

 

Teyla nods. “Actually, yes. We found a witness who saw someone matching Michael’s description come through the gate, and we pulled all of the dialed gate addresses from the DHD on that planet.”

 

As far as Rodney can tell, it’s the first real lead they’ve had. “Let’s see it.”

 

Zelenka has already set up a branched diagram, listing all the potential gate addresses from the world where John had first gone missing, as well as the possible planets where he’d been taken, and the addresses that had been crossed off the list. It’s disheartening to realize that even with this lead—which Teyla deems legitimate—they could be searching possible planets for months.

 

“Do we have an educated guess?” Rodney asks. “Are there any addresses we can cross off?”

 

Teyla shakes her head. “There are addresses that the people of that world visit frequently, but if Michael is clever, he’ll use that to his advantage.”

 

“How many addresses did Michael go through to get to that planet?” Rodney counters.

 

“Four,” Ronon says.

 

Rodney nods. “He’d be getting careless by this point, and we have to continue searching. I’m not saying that we cross those addresses off the list. I’m saying that we start our search on the planets where the natives _don’t_ have reason to go.”

 

Ronon points at four addresses out of the ten. “Those are regular trading worlds.”

 

“What do you know about the other six?” Rodney asks.

 

Teyla studies the addresses. “Two of them have well-known markets. If Michael went to those worlds, he would have to leave again almost immediately, and he would risk being seen. The other four addresses I do not recognize.”

 

“Then we start with those four worlds,” Rodney says. “How soon can we leave?”

 

~~~~~

 

The search is frustrating and tedious. Every planet they visit, they have to coax people into volunteering information with Teyla’s tact, or intimidate them into talking through Ronon’s quiet menace. Rodney can’t offer much—he’s not good with people, and he’s not very scary unless he has a nuke at his disposal.

 

Of course, other than the Genii, no one in this galaxy even knows what a nuke is, so Rodney is probably never going to be scary.

 

Rodney feels helpless. His intelligence doesn’t help under these circumstances; it just lets him imagine all the things that Michael might be doing to John. He hasn’t felt this powerless since Jeanie had been injected with the nanites, and John had talked Wallace into sacrificing himself to save her.

 

Slowly but surely, as the days go by, they cross off potential gate addresses, until they’ve narrowed their options to three. Unfortunately, the _Daedalus_ is two weeks out when they get the information, so they can’t just ask Caldwell to scan the possible planets for John’s transmitter. Instead, they have to visit each planet and do what they can to isolate the locations John might be held.

 

Rodney retrofits one of the Jumpers so that it will scan for John, and he has to make sure that they can conduct the scans while under cloak, so that Michael won’t be able to detect the Jumper while they’re there.

 

Thankfully, Zelenka had been doing Rodney’s job as well as his own while Rodney had been on Earth, and he continues to pick up the slack without a word of protest.

 

Considering how often Zelenka protests jobs he doesn’t like, Rodney knows Zelenka wants Sheppard back as much as he does.

 

Well, maybe not _quite_ as much as Rodney does, but Rodney appreciates the support, and he trusts Zelenka nearly as much as he trusts his team.

 

“I’d like to check all three,” Rodney tells Woolsey. “And I don’t want to come back to Atlantis in between.”

 

“And if you need assistance?” Woolsey counters.

 

“Then we’ll call,” Rodney replies. He doesn’t add, “If we can afford to wait,” but he thinks that’s probably understood.

 

For a moment, Rodney is certain that Woolsey will deny his request, although that’s not going to stop him. If he has to, Rodney will steal a Jumper, and he knows Ronon and Teyla will be happy to go along for the ride.

 

“I’ll allow it,” Woolsey finally says. “But I expect regular updates, and I expect you to call for help if you find Sheppard—if at all possible.”

 

Rodney can promise that much, and he calls Ronon and Teyla as he leaves Woolsey’s office. “We have a go,” he announces. “Let’s get packing.”

 

The whole city seems to be in cahoots to get them on their way, although Rodney has no idea whether that’s because they want him off the city, or whether it’s because they want John back.

 

Not that the _why_ matters. The point is that they aren’t coming back to Atlantis until they’ve got John.

 

At least, that’s Rodney’s intention. He knows well enough that they might not have a choice; if they run up against too many obstacles, they’ll have to come back to Atlantis to regroup.

 

Rodney doesn’t plan on running into that many obstacles.

 

They pack the back of the Jumper with boxes of MREs and medical supplies, and Lorne shows up about halfway through.

 

“What are you doing here?” Rodney asks suspiciously.

 

“I’m here to pilot your Jumper,” Lorne replies with a smile.

 

Rodney frowns. “I thought you were in charge with John gone.”

 

“Yeah, I’m a little tired of being in charge,” Lorne replies cheerfully. “And I think you’re going to find Sheppard, so I’m bringing along a friend or two.”

 

Rodney wants to refuse Lorne’s company, if only because he doesn’t plan on returning to Atlantis without John, but he’s not one to turn down help, not when he’s sure that they’ll find John on one of the three planets.

 

And they can use the backup. No matter how awesome Ronon and Teyla are, they can always use the extra firepower if they _do_ find John.

 

“All right,” Rodney says magnanimously. “But you’ll have to keep up.”

 

Lorne grins. “No problem.”

 

Lorne’s “friend or two” turns out to be one huge Marine by the name of Sergeant Dawkins. He’s well over six feet, probably weighs 300 pounds, and his P-90 is dwarfed in his hands.

 

Rodney sits in the co-pilot’s chair, while Ronon and Teyla take up the seats behind him and Lorne, leaving Dawkins to sit in the back, stretching his lets out in front of him and taking up half the bench.

 

As Lorne lines the jumper up with the gate, Rodney hears Woolsey’s voice over their radios. “Be careful, and good luck,” he says.

 

Rodney lets Lorne reply with a quiet, “Thank you, sir.”

 

They go through the gate with the cloak on, and Lorne takes them up into orbit to better scan the planet. The scan takes several hours, and Rodney busies himself with his laptop, wanting the distraction.

 

Rodney knows that a few hours aren’t going to make a lot of difference; John’s been missing for weeks now, and this is time they have to spend.

 

Still, Rodney will be happier if he doesn’t have to think about the lost hours, and there’s plenty of work he can do to stay busy.

 

“No dice,” Lorne announces when the scan finishes. “I guess we’re on to the next planet.”

 

Rodney sighs. “How much do you want to bet it will be the last one?”

 

Lorne shakes his head. “I’m not taking that bet, and as long as Sheppard’s on one of those planets, I’m not going to complain.”

 

Teyla murmurs her agreement, and Rodney can’t disagree.

 

~~~~~

 

It’s always the same when Michael’s goons come. As soon as John hears the door rattle, John sends Timos to the corner of the room in the hope that the guards will overlook the boy. That tactic works just often enough that John can’t give up trying, even though he knows it’s probably just Michael fucking with him.

 

He fights them, but more out of habit than any hope of success.

 

After the last attempt, John has no desire to truly try to escape unless he has a guarantee of success.

 

John meets Timos’ eyes as the guards drag him out, and Timos nods silently, indicating that he’ll be strong.

 

John goes limp in the guards’ hands and lets them drag him away, and he submits to the testing without protest. They strap him down in the chair, and Michael enters the lab with a smile. “Ah, Colonel Sheppard. It’s so good to see you again.”

 

“You know, if you’d leave more time in between visits, you might have time to miss me,” John quips.

 

Michael smiles. “That’s not how this works, Sheppard. I conduct tests, we wait for the results, and then you come back for more tests. It’s simple.”

 

“Simple,” John echoes, but he doesn’t try to argue. He’s not sure whether their experiments drove Michael crazy, or if they’d just moved Michael along the continuum, but John feels a certain responsibility.

 

If not for John’s decision, Michael never would have been put in this position; he would have been just another Wraith, who would have lived or died after attacking Atlantis or its people.

 

If not for John, Timos would have had a normal childhood—or at least what passed for normal in the Pegasus galaxy.

 

John is never completely certain how much of what Michael does is necessary for whatever he’s trying to accomplish, and how much is just payback. He’s not sure he wants to know—his only aim is survival.

 

Today is one of the better days; Michael and his goons take seemingly endless samples of blood, and then inject John with something that makes him woozy. John’s so out of it that he doesn’t notice the commotion outside the door until Michael holds up a hand.

 

“What is that?” Michael demands, following two of his creatures out, but leaving the other two with John.

 

John knows the guards are superfluous. Timos is still locked away, which means that John’s not willing to risk another escape attempt.

 

In his haze, John can hear gunfire and what sounds like an explosion. He struggles weakly against the straps holding him in place, knowing that it’s futile but unable to help himself.

 

The door bursts open, and John freezes when he sees Ronon enter the room, his blaster out, and he drops the two creatures immediately.

 

John can’t quite believe what he’s seeing. He’s dreamed of this moment for so long, he can’t take it in right now.

 

Rodney and Teyla are right behind him, and they rush over to loosen the straps holding John down.

 

John swallows thickly. “Rodney? Teyla?”

 

“We’re getting you out of here,” Rodney promises.

 

John shakes his head, his mind still fuzzy. “No, we can’t leave.”

 

“He’s delirious,” Rodney says, hauling John out of the chair.

 

Panic rises up to choke John, and he tries to pull free. All he can think about is Timos, because if the guards get to Timos before John can—

 

John can’t leave Timos behind. He’d promised they would leave together or not at all. He shakes Rodney and Teyla off and nearly falls to his knees, but Ronon catches him.

 

“No!” John protests. “We can’t leave him!”

 

Teyla steps in front of him and grabs his face between her hands. “John. John! Who must we not leave behind?”

 

“Timos,” John replies, blinking at her.

 

“Where is he?” Teyla asks gently.

 

John shakes his head, trying to clear it, feeling Ronon’s strong hands still holding him up. “In the room.”

 

“That’s not helpful!” Rodney says from behind him.

 

“Do you know where he is?” Teyla asks.

 

John nods. “I know the way.”

 

“C’mon,” Ronon grunts, shifting John’s weight. Ronon puts his left arm around John’s waist, his blaster still held in his right hand. “Point the way.”

 

Lorne stands in the hallway, P-90 in his hands. “Good to see you again, sir.”

 

John gapes at him, trying to order his thoughts, but they’re so jumbled he can’t grasp anything other than the need to get to Timos.

 

And he’s unarmed, and Michael is out there somewhere.

 

“Michael?” John asks hoarsely.

 

“We haven’t seen him,” Teyla confirms.

 

John shakes his head again. “I need a gun.”

 

Lorne frowns. “I’m not sure—”

 

Rodney moves in between them, cutting Lorne off. “John, your hands aren’t steady right now. What if you fired and hit Timos?”

 

“You’re right,” John mutters, knowing that he’s not thinking clearly. He glances up at Ronon. “You’ll protect him?”

 

“’Course I will,” Ronon says. “Which way?”

 

John points in the right direction, grateful that he can find his way back to the room in his sleep. He’s unsteady, but capable of walking with Ronon’s assistance, which is better than some Test Days, when he has to be carried back.

 

Lorne and Teyla guard the rear, and Rodney and Ronon keep their guns trained in front of them, and as they turn into the hallway where the cell is, John sees Michael holding Timos in front of his chest as a human shield.

 

“What will you trade for the boy?” Michael demands, a cruel smile curving his lips. “How about you give me McKay?”

 

Rodney takes half a step back, although his P-90 is still trained on Michael, and John doesn’t think. Or if he does think, it’s about the last two months, and how Michael needs to be put down like a rabid dog, and how John hates him with every fiber of his being.

 

If he thinks at all, it’s about Timos’ screams as he was punished for John’s last escape attempt.

 

In one easy movement, John reaches forward, pulls Rodney’s gun out of the thigh holster, and drills Michael between his eyes.

 

Michael’s body falls backwards, and Timos falls with him, although the boy quickly pulls free and launches himself at John.

 

The force of Timos’ body hitting him knocks John back on his ass, but he doesn’t care. Timos’ warm breath puffs on John’s neck, and he says, “Okay, it’s okay, buddy. These are my friends. This is my family. It’s Rodney, and Ronon, and Teyla.”

 

“We have to go, sir,” Lorne says nervously. “There are more of those creatures around.”

 

John wants to carry Timos out, but the sudden rush of adrenalin, mixed with the drugs in his system, has left him lightheaded and dizzy. “Will you let Rodney carry you?” he asked, glancing up to see Rodney staring at them with his mouth open.

 

“Okay,” Timos says softly.

 

John pleads with Rodney silently, willing him to be okay with this, even though Rodney has never shown much interest in children in the past.

 

Rodney surprises him, though, because he says, “Hey, buddy. You mind if I carry you?”

 

John’s stories must have been good for something, because Timos unwraps himself from around John and goes willingly to Rodney, who picks him up and settles him on one hip. “We’d better go,” Rodney says matter-of-factly.

 

Ronon gives John a hand up and takes most of John’s weight again.

 

“We’ve got a jumper just outside,” Lorne says from behind John.

 

Teyla takes point now, providing some cover for Rodney and Timos. John wants to offer help, but it’s all he can do to keep hold of the gun he’d snagged from Rodney, and put one foot in front of the other.

 

Halfway down the hallway, they’re met by Sergeant Dawkins, whom John vaguely remembers.

 

Dawkins smiles. “Good to see you, Colonel.”

 

John manages to nod, and then they’re out of the complex, under a slate-gray sky, and the jumper shimmers to life in front of them.

 

He hears Timos’ gasp of amazement, and then they’re up the ramp, and Ronon is setting John down gently on one of the benches.

 

Rodney puts Timos down, and as soon as John is settled, Timos is in John’s lap, huddling close, hiding his face in John’s neck—and no wonder. Timos has seen no one but John and Michael and Michael’s creatures for as long as Timos can remember.

 

“Do you need any immediate medical attention?” Teyla asks.

 

John shakes his head. “Nothing that won’t wait until we get to Atlantis.”

 

Timos whimpers a little as the jumper lifts off, and John shushes him quietly. “It’s okay,” he murmurs. “We’re just taking off. I told you about it, remember?”

 

Timos won’t look up, keeping his face pressed to John’s neck, and John can sympathize. There have been plenty of times in the last couple of months where he’s wanted to shut his eyes and wish the world away.

 

“Hey, you want to look out the view screen?” John asks quietly. “You can see outside.”

 

Timos looks up uncertainly. “Outside?”

 

John shifts Timos with a grunt, ignoring the looks from the others, moving so that Timos can look through the view screen without loosening his grip on John.

 

Timos’ eyes go wide, and he says, “ _Oh_.”

 

That small noise tugs at John’s heart. When he’d asked Timos what he remembered of the time before, Timos had been able to tell John nothing other than his name. John can’t blame the kid; being Michael’s guinea pig had been plenty traumatic for John, and he at least had some experience with torture.

 

Timos pulls away from John slightly, the better to see, and John smiles. Timos’ curiosity is bigger than his fear, and Lorne glances over his shoulder at the boy. “Do you want to come closer?”

 

Timos shakes his head, one hand still on John’s knee, his eyes focused on the world outside. He makes a small sound of alarm as the gate whooshes to life in front of them and backs up into John again.

 

“It’s okay,” John soothes. “That’s the gate. Remember?”

 

“I remember,” Timos whispers. He keeps his eyes on the window as they fly into Atlantis.

 

Lorne calls for medical, and John says, “I’ll take Timos to the infirmary.”

 

Rodney frowns at him. “You can barely move under your own steam.”

 

“I think it would be better,” John insists, glancing at Timos. “Please, Rodney.”

 

Rodney’s shoulders slump. “Fine, you win. I’ll tell Carson.”

 

“Perhaps Timos would like to walk with me,” Teyla says with a gentle smile.

 

Timos looks up at John uncertainly.

 

“It’s okay, buddy,” John assures him. “I’m just a little dizzy.”

 

Since that’s a common aftereffect of a session with Michael, Timos accepts John’s explanation without question.

 

Keller has two gurneys waiting, along with what looks like half the medical staff. Timos balks in the face of all those people, and a glance at his face tells John that the boy is terrified. Everybody seems to be talking all at once, and John wants to answer their questions—actually, he wants to tell them all to shut up and speak one at a time—but Timos comes first.

 

John pulls free of Ronon’s grasp and kneels in front of Timos, tilting Timos’ chin so that their eyes met. “Hey,” John says quietly. “I know there are a lot of people here, Timos, but they’re friends of mine. Remember? I told you they’d come for us.”

 

A little sense came back into his eyes, and he nods.

 

Sometimes, the kid’s bravery just blows John away.

 

“Colonel Sheppard?” Keller calls.

 

“I can walk, and so can Timos,” John replies. He’s a little steadier on his feet now, and while he’s not up to carrying the kid, he’s not about to be strapped down, and he won’t allow them to do that to Timos either.

 

Timos would probably go out of his mind if they tried.

 

“Colonel Sheppard.”

 

John glances up at Woolsey. “I’m okay,” he insists. “But where we’ve been—the gurneys aren’t a good idea.”

 

“Mr. Woolsey, Dr. Keller, we can get John and Timos to the infirmary,” Teyla says softly. “Timos?” She holds out a hand.

 

Timos hesitates for a moment, and then gulps and slips his hand in hers. John lets out a deep sigh, and then Rodney pulls him to his feet and puts an arm around John’s waist.

 

“Well, don’t all stand there gawking!” Rodney snaps. “Get a move on!”

 

John smiles for the first time in a long time, and believes he’s really home.

 

~~~~~

 

Although Rodney has very little experience with children, even _he_ can see Timos’ abject terror when they enter the infirmary. Timos’ steps turn jerky and uncertain, and he pulls away from Teyla to press against John’s leg; he stops cold about ten paces into the room.

 

John sways on his feet, but he manages to kneel next to Timos with Rodney’s help. “It’s okay,” he murmurs. “No one is going to hurt you here, and I’ll be right by you the whole time.”

 

Jennifer squats down in front of both of them. “Hey, my name is Jennifer,” she says with a smile. “What’s yours?”

 

“Timos,” he manages to whisper.

 

“I like that name,” Jennifer replies, her voice low and conspiratorial. “And I need your help.”

 

Some of the fear leaves Timos’ face. “ _My_ help?”

 

“Colonel Sheppard is hurt, and I need you to keep him calm for me,” Jennifer whispers. “I want to make him feel better.”

 

Timos glances up at John, a skeptical expression on his face. “Really?”

 

“On Atlantis, doctors help you feel better,” John confirms. “And Jennifer is right. I never liked going to the doctor.”

 

Timos squares his thin shoulders. “Okay.”

 

“Great!” Jennifer replies. “How about you sit next to John on one of the beds? I’ll bet he’ll feel better that way.”

 

Timos still appears wary, but he nods, and Rodney helps John to his feet and over to the nearest bed. It’s too high for Timos to clamber up, but Ronon has shadowed them to the infirmary, and he picks Timos up and sets him next to John.

 

“All right,” Jennifer says. “Why don’t you guys take a break? I’ll let you know when Colonel Sheppard is ready for visitors.”

 

Rodney glances at Teyla and Ronon, and they both nod, and then turn to leave. Rodney insists, “I’m staying.”

 

Jennifer sighs. “Fine. But you’ll have to stay out of my way.”

 

Rodney takes a step back, his hands raised. “I understand.”

 

When he looks over his shoulder, he can see Woolsey in the doorway of the infirmary talking with Teyla and Ronon, and he’s grateful to be this close to John. Curiosity has him turning his attention to Timos, since Jennifer is bustling around John—probably because she’s decided he’s the more pressing concern.

 

He has no idea how old the boy is—maybe a year or two older than Madison, based on his size, although given John’s condition, Timos’ growth might have been stunted by poor nutrition. Timos’ hair is long and dark, but it sticks up in back. His eyes are a clear, greenish hazel, and when he brushes his hair back, Rodney catches sight of a slightly pointed ear.

 

Rodney blinks, and realizes that he can see the shadow of the man in the boy—but that’s _impossible_.

 

“How old are you, Timos?” Jennifer asks.

 

Timos shoots a panicked glance at John.

 

“He doesn’t remember,” John replies wearily. “He doesn’t remember anything other than his name.”

 

Jennifer offers Timos a reassuring smile. “No problem. If you want my expert opinion, I’d guess about seven, and you can pick your own birthday.”

 

“Birthday?” Timos echoes.

 

“Sure, the day everybody else celebrates when you’re born,” Jennifer replies, looking into John’s ears. “There’s usually cake.”

 

Timos frowns. “What’s cake?”

 

Jennifer grins brightly. “Just you wait. I’ll make sure the cooks make a cake soon.”

 

“I like pie better,” John replies.

 

Timos glances up at him. “Is it good?”

 

“It’s great, buddy,” John assures him, his tone tender. “You just wait. You’ll get to try anything you want.”

 

“I’m going to take some blood, Colonel,” Jennifer says. “I know that’s probably the last thing you want right now, but I need to know what’s in your system.”

 

John nods. “Watch, Timos,” he says. “There’s a pinch, but that’s it. She’s going to need to do the same for you, just to make sure you’re okay.”

 

Timos nods seriously, and Rodney realizes that Jennifer had chosen to run tests on John first just to prove to Timos that he wouldn’t be harmed.

 

“How do you feel, Colonel?” Jennifer asks. “And I want an honest answer.”

 

“Tired, hungry, and still a little dizzy,” John admits. “But I feel a lot better right now than I have in a while.”

 

There’s the ring of truth in John’s words, and Rodney wonders how bad it had been. Normally, John won’t admit to even mild discomfort, so to have him say that much—and yet insist that this had been a good day—sets alarm bells off.

 

“Timos? How do you feel?” Jennifer asks.

 

Timos glances at John, and then admits, “Hungry. A little sore.”

 

“Where are you sore?” she asks gently.

 

“All over,” he admits in a whisper.

 

John puts an arm around Timos’ thin, narrow shoulders and whispers, “Good job.”

 

And Rodney realizes that one of the reasons John had been honest about his physical condition is that he wants to encourage Timos to do the same.

 

He feels a sharp sense of loss then, knowing he’ll never have his friend back—at least, he’ll never have John as he was before being taken by Michael. Rodney had believed he could go off for a month on Earth, lecturing at various colleges and preparing the way for declassification if it ever came, and he would come back to Atlantis and find John—and the rest of his team—just as he’d left them.

 

Instead, he’d come back to find John missing, and in getting John back, Rodney is now faced with the realization that everything has changed. John’s sense of duty is more finely developed than just about anyone else Rodney has ever known, and for the last two months, Timos has been the center of John’s world.

 

Rescue hasn’t altered that truth.

 

Timos is sagging against John by the time Jennifer finishes her tests, clearly exhausted and yet unwilling to sleep.

 

“I want to keep you both in the infirmary overnight,” Jennifer says.

 

John shakes his head. “No, no way. No offense, doc, but neither of us is going to be able to sleep in the middle of all this medical equipment. If you think we’re in danger, maybe, but otherwise—”

 

“You’re not in danger that I can tell,” Jennifer admits, her mouth twisting unhappily. “But I’d feel better if—”

 

“My quarters,” Rodney blurts out.

 

From the way John looks at him, Rodney guesses that he’s forgotten Rodney’s still in the infirmary, but his shoulders slump in relief. “You don’t mind?”

 

“I’ll stay up,” Rodney promises. He’s missed so much sleep already that another night won’t make much difference. “And my quarters are larger.”

 

“We’re used to sleeping on the floor,” John says, and the way he says it makes Rodney think that they’re probably used to sharing close quarters.

 

He wishes he could have seen the room where they’d kept John; maybe Rodney would have a better idea of what John had faced.

 

“I don’t know,” Jennifer says uncertainly.

 

“Timos isn’t going to be comfortable here,” John insists. “Please.”

 

“If someone stays with you,” Jennifer says reluctantly.

 

“Someone will be awake the entire time,” Rodney promises. “Ronon and Teyla will each take a watch,” he adds, knowing that John will balk if he thinks Rodney is going to stay awake all night.

 

The smile that tilts John’s lips is sincere. “Thanks, McKay.”

 

Rodney suspects that there’s more to it than that. He suspects they’ve only scratched the surface of all the fucked up things that Michael had done to John and the boy.

 

And he wishes he’d fought harder; he wishes he could have seen into the future so he could have prevented all of this.

 

~~~~~

 

John wakes slowly, feeling the soft mattress under him, and the warm blanket over him. He can smell the salt of the sea, and he feels the warmth of the sun streaming into the room that tells him the balcony is open to the elements. He’s grateful for it, because it’s one more reminder that the prior day had not been a dream.

 

As usual, Timos is curled up next to him, but when John opens his eyes, all he can see is a lump in the covers, since Timos has burrowed underneath. Ronon sits in Rodney’s desk chair, long legs stretched out in front of him, blaster unholstered in his lap.

 

John knows the precaution isn’t necessary—Michael is dead, after all, and they’re safe on Atlantis—but he appreciates it.

 

 _Michael is dead_ , he thinks, relief and emptiness following in the wake of that thought. Killing Michael hadn’t been nearly as satisfying as he’d hoped; the fantasies he’d harbored over the last few months had been better.

 

John should know by now that revenge is never quite as satisfying as expected.

 

He meets Ronon’s eyes and asks, “Where’s Rodney?”

 

“Sleeping in your quarters,” Ronon replies. “Feeling better?”

 

“Better is relative.” John nudges Timos. “Hey, buddy.”

 

Timos shifts slightly but refuses to move otherwise, and John shrugs. If Timos wants to sleep late, John isn’t going to make him get up.

 

“I need to get some clean clothes,” John says.

 

Ronon jerks his chin at a pile of clothes. “Already done.”

 

“Keep an eye on Timos?”

 

“No problem.”

 

John doesn’t remember the last time he’s been able to take a shower with unlimited hot water. He uses Rodney’s shampoo and soap, but he doesn’t bother with a razor, even though he knows he needs to get rid of the beard.

 

By the time he emerges from the bathroom, Timos is awake, and Ronon has somehow coaxed him into perching on Rodney’s desk as Ronon points out the various parts of his blaster.

 

“John!” Timos exclaims. “Have you seen it before?”

 

“Sure,” John replies with a smile. “But I think you’re the first person Ronon has explained how it works to.”

 

Timos glances at Ronon. “Really?”

 

“You listen,” Ronon explains briefly.

 

“He’s a great listener,” John says. “You want to get cleaned up before breakfast?”

 

Timos shrugs. “I guess.”

 

The kid has never been terribly interested in personal hygiene, and John usually had to insist that Timos get a sketchy wash in the little water provided. Still, someone had arranged for clean clothing, maybe from the Athosians, and John says, “Come on, kid. The hot water will feel good, I promise.”

 

Timos heaves a sigh and hops off the desk. “Okay.”

 

Ronon grins, and John has to work to hide his smile. For once, Timos sounds and acts just like any other kid.

 

“Let me show you how it works,” John says. “Then you clean up on your own.”

 

“Doesn’t the water work when you think about it?” Timos asks innocently.

 

John blinks. “Yeah, it does. How did you know?”

 

“I hear something in my mind,” Timos replies. “I just knew.”

 

“Okay, then,” John replies slowly. “Be careful about the temperature.”

 

Timos shrugs. “I will.”

 

“I’ll be right outside,” John promises.

 

“Can I leave the door open?” Timos asks anxiously.

 

John smiles. “Just ask Atlantis,” he replies and steps outside.

 

The door slides halfway closed behind John, and then stops.

 

John isn’t sure what it means that Timos has the gene—and a strong one at that. He’s not sure he wants to know.

 

“He looks like you,” Ronon says quietly when John sits down on the edge of Rodney’s bed.

 

John frowns. “No, he doesn’t.”

 

Ronon shrugs in such a way that suggests he’s not going to change his mind, but he’s not willing to argue about it.

 

John’s still tired, and he stretches out on Rodney’s bed while waiting for Timos to finish up. Timos takes his time, and John smiles. Apparently, Timos has discovered the joys of hot water.

 

Timos emerges fully dressed, in clothing that’s a little too big. He nearly trips on his too-long trousers, and John kneels down to roll up the cuffs on the trousers and then does the same for the shirt.

 

These clothes were a change from Timos’ old ones, which had ended an inch above the kid’s wrists and ankles and were filthy besides.

 

“Lookin’ good, kiddo,” John says. “You hungry?”

 

Timos nods. “Is it okay to go out?”

 

“Yeah, it is,” John replies. “But maybe you shouldn’t wander around without me, or Ronon, Teyla, or Rodney, okay? Especially since you can talk to the city. It’s really important that you’re safe.”

 

Timos nods. “Okay, John.”

 

“Good boy,” John says. “Now, let’s get something to eat.”

 

Luckily, it’s late enough when they enter the mess that it’s not as full as it could be. As it is, Timos nearly runs in the opposite direction when he sees the two-dozen people who are eating or in line.

 

John responds to Timos’ panic by picking him up and settling him on one hip, since he’s steady enough to manage it. “These folks are friends,” John insists quietly. “No one’s going to hurt you here.”

 

Timos presses his face into the side of John’s neck.

 

“You still want to eat?” John asks.

 

Timos nods against him.

 

“Okay, let’s see what we can find, then.”

 

With Ronon’s help, John fills a tray with enough food for the two of them and finds a table in the corner. He sets Timos down but doesn’t complain when Timos presses in close.

 

“What is this?” Timos asks in a whisper, pointing to the scrambled eggs.

 

“Eggs,” John explains. “Go ahead and try them.”

 

Timos doesn’t bother with the utensils, picking the eggs up in his fingers and shoving them in his mouth.

 

John points out the other items on the tray. “Toast and apples.”

 

Timos grunts and applies himself to his food with a single-minded purpose.

 

“Go slow,” John advises him. “You’ll be sick otherwise.”

 

Ronon is devouring his breakfast with the same focus, and John shrugs, figuring that he can teach Timos table manners later.

 

Teyla and Rodney join them shortly, just about the time that Timos starts slowing down. John is grateful that he hadn’t filled Timos’ plate, and he wonders if the kid will start growing now that he has access to normal portions.

 

Then again, John has no idea how much Timos’ growth has been stunted, if at all. If he has to guess, Keller is probably right about him being around seven, although John isn’t an expert.

 

“Mr. Woolsey wants to meet with you in an hour,” Teyla says. “I can stay with Timos if you would prefer to give your report alone.”

 

Timos glances up in alarm. “John, no!”

 

“I think Timos wants to stay with me,” John says evenly. “But thank you.”

 

No one argues with John, and he’s grateful to avoid conflict with his team. With the three of them riding interference, he’s pretty sure that Woolsey won’t press too hard to keep Timos out of the meeting.

 

John doesn’t think that Timos is going to tolerate being out of his general vicinity for the near future. There had been far too many days when John had been pulled out of their cell on Test Days, only to return weak and shaky and sick.

 

If their positions had been reversed, John is fairly certain that he’d feel the same way. And, in fact, John’s not entirely willing to let Timos out of his sight either. He trusts the people on Atlantis, but he wants to keep Timos close.

 

Timos is John’s responsibility; John fell down on the job once, but he won’t let it happen again.

 

And John knows Timos well enough to know that in another hour or so, he’ll be deeply asleep with a full meal in his belly.

 

“Has Jennifer said anything about when you’ll be cleared for duty?” Rodney asks.

 

John shakes his head. “No, but she’s probably waiting until I get cleared by the psychiatrist.”

 

“What’s that?” Timos asks.

 

John thinks it’s a good sign that Timos is comfortable enough to ask questions with his team around. “It’s a doctor for your head,” John explains. “The inside of your head.”

 

Timos frowns. “Why would you need one of those?”

 

John wonders sometimes whether Timos will be scarred by his time in Michael’s prison or, since he can’t remember anything that came before, it will eventually become a set of hazy, unpleasant memories that have no bearing on his life after their escape.

 

He glances at his team, hoping for help, but Teyla and Ronon have never exactly seen the point of psychology—although Teyla had liked Kate Heightmeyer quite a bit, if John remembered correctly—but Ronon had never liked talking about his feelings. And, while Rodney had appreciated having a captive audience, he viewed psychology and other kinds of medicine as little better than voodoo.

 

John hasn’t done more than exchange a few words with the current psychologist on Atlantis, a Dr. Murphy. John knows the man had come highly recommended, and that he’d served as psychiatrist on a couple of different bases, treating men and women home from half a dozen conflicts. He has no idea if the guy has any experience with kids, though.

 

But all of that aside, John has no idea how to explain why people might need a doctor for the inside of their heads.

 

“They listen to you talk about things that upset you,” John explains awkwardly. “Sometimes it helps.”

 

Timos doesn’t seem to be appeased. “Why wouldn’t I talk to you?”

 

Everyone around the table smiles, and John says, “That’s a good question, buddy. I guess the answer is that a doctor like that has experience with other people who have had bad things happen to them.”

 

Timos wrinkles his nose. “Michael hurt other people?”

 

“He hurt me and my people,” Teyla replies gently. “Did John tell you about that?”

 

John hadn’t, mostly because he’d spent so long looking for the Athosians, and then for Teyla, and he’d wanted to tell Timos stories about triumph, or funny events. The Athosians had lost a lot of people to Michael’s depredations, and every person lost had felt like a failure on John’s part.

 

Timos shakes his head. “No. Did you escape?”

 

“John helped rescue me,” Teyla replies diplomatically. “Me, and my son.”

 

Timos perks up at that. “Torren? Your baby?”

 

Timos had been fascinated by John’s few stories of the baby, maybe because he can’t remember anything before Michael’s lab, and he has no idea who his mother is.

 

“Yes,” Teyla replies. “He’s with his father now, and with my people, but he’ll be returning to Atlantis soon. You’ll meet him then.”

 

Timos’ face lights up. “Cool!”

 

Rodney shoots John a dirty look. “I see you’ve already taught him deficient language skills.”

 

“What’s wrong with me?” Timos asks anxiously.

 

John glares at Rodney, as does Teyla, and Rodney holds his hands up in surrender. “I didn’t mean it,” Rodney says. “I’m just saying there are better words than ‘cool.’”

 

“Like what?” Timos asks.

 

John grins when Rodney sputters at the question, and Ronon snickers audibly. Teyla somehow manages to keep a straight face. “I believe what Rodney means to say is that there are many ways to express the same sentiment. Knowing them all will allow you to more accurately express yourself.”

 

Timos frowns. “So, I could say awesome?”

 

“You _could_ ,” Rodney allows. “But there are a lot of other words, too.”

 

“Like what?” Timos presses.

 

Rodney frowns. “For that, you’d need a linguist.”

 

“What’s a linguist?”

 

Even Teyla chuckles at that question, and Rodney unbends enough to smile. “You don’t run out of questions, do you?” Rodney asks.

 

Timos ducks his head. “Is that bad?”

 

“No, it’s good!” Rodney hastens to assure him. “How can you learn anything if you don’t ask questions? I asked a lot of questions when I was your age.”

 

The funny thing is, John can remember being that curious, too. His father had been impatient, and his mom had answered as best she could, but it had been the stable master who had been most receptive.

 

That might have had something to do with John’s love of horses—that, and the sense of flying when he’d been on the back of his favorite mare.

 

Timos smiles and presses close to John. “You don’t mind?”

 

“Ask me anything you like,” Rodney replies magnanimously, and John knows what that concession means. He’s not really sure how to take it.

 

Timos nods, unwilling to take McKay up on his offer right away.

 

“We have the meeting,” Teyla says quietly.

 

John glances down at Timos. “Sorry, buddy, but this is probably going to be pretty boring. You up for it?”

 

“Can I sleep?” Timos asks.

 

“As much as you want,” John promises.

 

Timos smiles sweetly. “Okay.”

 

John smiles in return. “Let’s see what Mr. Woolsey has to say, huh?”

 

In reality, though, John doesn’t give a rat’s ass what Woolsey says. Timos is _his_ , in every way that matters, and John is going to keep Timos with him, no matter what he has to do.

 

He just hopes his team is on board.


	3. Chapter 3

Rodney notices Woolsey’s surprise when Timos enters the conference room with John, but he doesn’t object, even when Timos insists on sitting on John’s lap.

 

To Rodney’s knowledge, no one has touched John so much in such a short period of time, without John giving even a hint of discomfort. Rodney suspects it has a lot to do with whatever had happened in Michael’s stronghold, although he can remember John being a little more inclined to human contact with his team—and particularly with Rodney—during or after a rough mission.

 

“We’re all here for Colonel Sheppard’s report of his time with Michael,” Woolsey says evenly, which doesn’t even hint at the horror of what had probably happened.

 

“To be frank, it sucked,” John says, and there are chuckles from all around the table.

 

Rodney surveys the faces—Woolsey, Lorne, Ronon, Teyla, Murphy, Keller, and Carson. He’s grateful Carson is present, because at least he knows John, and knows John’s history. Along with their team, Carson is most likely to understand John’s loyalty to the boy, and to have some idea of what Michael is capable of.

 

Granted, with John back, everyone is willing to forgive a multitude of sins, but Rodney suspects that Woolsey will look for the quickest way to get rid of Timos and get John back to where he was.

 

From what Rodney’s seen so far, that’s a false hope. No matter what Woolsey suggests, John isn’t going to abandon his duty to Timos; that much is obvious.

 

“Perhaps Timos shouldn’t be here for your report,” Woolsey suggests.

 

“Timos knows what happened,” John replies with an insincere smile. “After all, he was there for most of it.”

 

There’s no argument Woolsey can make in response. “Very well. Tell us what happened after you were captured.”

 

John’s voice is completely emotionless as he says, “I was knocked unconscious. When I came to, I was in a large room. The only running water was from a broken pipe in the corner. I was alone until after my second escape attempt.”

 

“And after your second escape attempt?” Woolsey asks.

 

John’s eyes dart to Timos, who leans his head back against John’s shoulder. “Michael’s goons brought Timos in.”

 

Rodney knows that John is often laconic, but this is ridiculous. “And then?” Woolsey prompts when it appears John isn’t going to continue.

 

“I made a third attempt to escape, and we were caught.” John’s voice is tight and strained. “Michael made it clear to me that Timos would be the one punished if I tried again.”

 

Timos turns his head, hiding his face in John’s shoulder.

 

When Rodney glances around the table, everyone other than Ronon wears a horrified expression—Ronon looks thunderous, and Rodney suspects that if Michael hadn’t already been dead, Ronon would have hunted him down and killed him right then.

 

Woolsey is the first to break the silence, although he has to clear his throat a couple of times before he can say, “And what did Michael want?”

 

“You saw his creatures,” John replies. “He wanted my gene.”

 

They don’t get a lot more out of John, although Timos soon goes lax against him, his head lolling in sleep. John describes the tests Michael ran in a dispassionate voice, beginning to give more details once Timos is asleep.

 

“And did Michael do the same to Timos?” Carson asks.

 

John shrugs. “Sometimes. Those were the worst days. It was better when it was just me.”

 

There’s a wealth of information in those words, and Rodney makes a strangled sound.

 

John shoots him a look that’s full of dark amusement, as though he knows what Rodney is thinking, but Rodney doesn’t see how he can.

 

Rodney’s thinking he wishes he knew a way to bring Michael back from the dead, just so he could kill him again—slowly, this time, and a lot more painfully.

 

“What about the boy?” Woolsey asks, glancing at Timos, who’s sprawled across John, obviously deeply asleep. “What do you suggest we do with him?”

 

John frowns. “ _Do_ with him? He doesn’t remember anything before Michael. He has no idea who his people are. And even if he knew, that doesn’t mean he’d have the gate address.”

 

Woolsey frowns. “Then perhaps the Athosians—”

 

“No,” John says immediately. “Just _no_. I told you, Timos doesn’t remember anything except for me. _Maybe_ if we knew where his parents were, but we _don’t_.”

 

Woolsey shakes his head. “I’m afraid that’s impossible, Colonel Sheppard. Atlantis is not set up to take care of children.”

 

“Excuse me,” Teyla says. “But I have Torren.”

 

Woolsey frowns. “That’s different.”

 

“How?” John demands.

 

Woolsey raises his eyebrows.

 

Rodney sees Keller and Carson glance at each other. “Mr. Woolsey,” Keller begins. “It’s going to be at least a couple of weeks before Colonel Sheppard is cleared for duty, and depriving Timos of the only adult he knows would be doubly traumatic right now.”

 

“Let’s give it some time,” Carson adds. “Give the lad a chance to adjust, and maybe his memories will start to return.”

 

Rodney can see John open his mouth to object, and he kicks him under the table.

 

He has an idea, but making it work depends on John not protesting, and on him remaining ignorant of what Rodney is planning.

 

John glares at Rodney, and Rodney mouths, “Trust me.”

 

John frowns, but gives a nearly imperceptible nod.

 

“I suppose we can give it a couple of weeks,” Woolsey allows. “I haven’t yet heard back from the IOA or the SGC regarding Colonel Sheppard’s safe return.”

 

Rodney isn’t sure what the SGC or the IOA could say, other than “Thanks for getting him back.”

 

Not that it matters, really. Rodney isn’t going to let anything happen to John, not again.

 

John stares down at the table stubbornly, his mouth set in a thin line. “What are they going to say? I want to go back on duty as soon as I’m cleared.”

 

“They might want you to go back to Earth,” Woolsey warns.

 

Rodney frowns. “What good would that do?”

 

“After what Colonel Sheppard has been through, the SGC is likely to require a full debrief,” Woolsey says delicately.

 

John’s alarm is clear, and Rodney snorts. “And if they do, then I’m going with him,” he insists. “No way am I letting him out of my sight. We all know what happened last time.”

 

Rodney can see John’s lips twitch, and he counts it as a job well done. “If that’s what the SGC wants, then I’ll follow orders,” John says. “But whatever happens, Timos stays with me.”

 

“I’ll see what I can do,” Woolsey replies noncommittally.

 

John’s expression shuts down, and Rodney nudges him under the table again, giving him a quick shake of his head.

 

John isn’t going to lose Timos, not if Rodney has anything to say about it. Even if no one else can see it, Rodney knows that Timos is key to John’s recovery. If John loses the kid, he might very well go off the deep end.

 

Then again, when Rodney sees Teyla and Ronon’s grim faces, he thinks they might get it.

 

And if he’s right, it won’t be an issue.

 

The meeting wraps up quickly after that, and John nudges Timos awake. “Come on, kiddo. You want a tour of the city?”

 

Rodney catches Jennifer and Carson’s eyes, and follows them out of the room and to the infirmary. “I need to talk to you,” he said in an undertone. “In _private_.”

 

“Let’s go to my office,” Carson replies. “We won’t be overheard there.”

 

They find their seats, with Carson sitting behind the desk. Even though Rodney’s usually oblivious about the subtleties of human interaction, he knows that’s significant. He suspects that Jennifer still isn’t entirely comfortable as the CMO, and that she’s letting Carson take the lead on this.

 

“I want you to compare John’s DNA with Timos’,” Rodney says without preamble. “There’s no way he’s Sheppard’s kid, but I think he might be a clone, given Michael’s history.”

 

Carson winces, and Rodney thinks he probably should have been a little more tactful in his phrasing. “We’ll do that,” Carson promises.

 

“But if he doesn’t turn out to be Sheppard’s clone, I want you to fake the results,” Rodney continues. “Make it look like he is, but don’t tell anybody.”

 

“Why?” Jennifer demands.

 

“Because I have more leverage that way,” Rodney says bluntly. “Look, the kid looks a lot like Sheppard, and we haven’t been in the Pegasus galaxy long enough for Sheppard to have fathered him. If Timos is somehow related to the colonel, there’s a much better chance that the SGC will let John keep him.”

 

Carson frowns. “The SGC doesn’t like clones.”

 

“He’s a kid!” Rodney protests. “And I have favors to call in with Sam and O’Neill. It’s going to be a hell of a lot easier if they think he’s related to John somehow.”

 

“Okay, that I’ll give you,” Carson admits. “We’ll run a comparison.”

 

“And you’ll let me know the results,” Rodney insists.

 

Jennifer frowns. “I think that’s up to Colonel Sheppard to decide.”

 

“And I think that Sheppard is being willfully obtuse about the fact that the kid looks _exactly_ like him,” Rodney shoots back. “He’ll take the news better from a member of his team.”

 

Carson nods. “I think you’re right about that, and because I don’t think Colonel Sheppard would do well without the boy, we’ll do it your way.”

 

“Great,” Rodney says, clapping his hands together.  “Thank you. Now, I’m going to check on our wayward colonel.”

 

Rodney is confident that the DNA results will turn out exactly as he suspects. The color of Timos’ eyes and the shape of his ears are evidence enough for him.

 

He doesn’t stop to think about what he ‘s doing, or the markers he’ll call in to ensure that John gets to keep Timos. Really, none of that matters. All that matters is John.

 

And if John wants Timos, he’s going to keep him, whatever Rodney has to do to make that happen.

 

~~~~~

 

John honestly has no idea what he’s supposed to do with Timos, or what he’s supposed to do with himself. He’s off duty, which means that he’s got nowhere to be and nothing to do.

 

But Timos definitely has the gene, so John shows the kid all his favorite areas of Atlantis—the best views from the various balconies, the control room, and then the gym.

 

“What’s this place?” Timos asks, looking around the mats and the free weights. Since John had first come to Atlantis, they had added a few treadmills, a Stairmaster, free weights, and mats for sparring.

 

“This is a place where people can work on defending themselves,” John explains.

 

Timos looks around with wide eyes. “Will you teach me how to defend myself?”

 

John wants to say that he’ll protect Timos no matter what happens, but he hadn’t been very successful so far. “Sure, kiddo,” he promises. “Whatever you want.”

 

“Am I making trouble for you?” Timos asks, clearly worried.

 

John frowns. “I thought you were asleep during that meeting.”

 

“I was asleep for most of it,” Timos dodges.

 

Since John has used that excuse himself, he doesn’t argue. “I’ll teach you whatever you want to know,” he promises. “And Michael is the one who made trouble, not you. You were just in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

 

Timos frowns. “But if I hadn’t been there, I wouldn’t have met you.”

 

The kid has always been able to disarm him with his honesty and earnestness. John isn’t sure if it’s because he has no memories of the time before Michael, and so hasn’t learned to lie, or if it’s just something that’s inherently Timos.

 

John ruffles Timos’ hair. “No, you wouldn’t have, and I’m glad to have met you, buddy. Nothing’s going to change that. You hungry?”

 

Timos nods seriously. “Yes. Is it okay if we eat?”

 

“We can eat whenever you want,” John replies, his heart aching. “Nobody goes hungry on Atlantis. If you’re hungry, you tell somebody, and they’ll get you something to eat.”

 

Timos’ alarm is clear. “Where will you be?”

 

“Just if I’m not around,” John assures him. “But I’m not going anywhere.”

 

“But what if they make you leave me?” Timos sounds increasingly panicked, and the others in the room are beginning to stare.

 

The only way to calm Timos when he gets like this is through contact, and John picks him up, hurrying out of the gym, finding an empty balcony and sinking down, bracing himself against the outside wall.

 

Timos clutches at John, shaking, but not crying. He never cries, not after that brutal session.

 

“You remember the stories I told?” John asks a little desperately. “They were all true. You know that.”

 

Timos’ breath hitches, but he nods against John’s chest.

 

“So, when I tell you another story, you know it’s true,” John says. “If they try to make me leave you, we’ll take a Jumper, and I’ll teach you how to fly it, and we’ll go away from here. We’ll fly around the galaxy, and we’ll explore different planets. Teyla and Ronon would probably come with us.”

 

“And we’ll be together?” Timos asks tremulously.

 

“You bet,” John replies. Timos mumbles something that John doesn’t catch. “What’s that, buddy?”

 

“You can’t promise that,” Timos says more clearly. “They could be like Michael. They could hurt you. They could take me away.”

 

John wishes he could argue the point, but he can’t. The meeting had hammered home how little control he has over the situation. He can protest all he likes, but if he’s ordered back to Earth, he’ll have to go, and they might not let him take Timos with him. And if they _do_ let John bring Timos with him, they might not let John keep him. They could decide that John is too fucked up to have custody of a kid.

 

“I’m not letting you go, not without one hell of a fight,” John promises. “And Rodney and Ronon and Teyla will help me.” He can trust his team; John is pretty sure that Rodney already has some kind of plan. He’d intimated as much during the meeting. “What do you say we get something to eat, and then I’ll show you how to play video games.”

 

Timos nods. “Okay.”

 

When he doesn’t loosen his grip, John sighs and manages to clamber to his feet with Timos still clinging to him like a barnacle.

 

Rodney comes barreling through the door, clearly worried. “Oh, there you are. We’re eating lunch with Teyla and Ronon. Why don’t you have your radio on?”

 

John touches his ear, surprised. “I—I guess I didn’t realize I didn’t have it,” he admits.

 

“Do you have one?” Rodney asks. “Did anybody give you a replacement?”

 

John shakes his head. “No, I guess not.”

 

“What’s wrong with him?” Rodney asks bluntly, glancing at Timos. “One of the Marines in the gym said he was upset.”

 

“He heard more of the meeting than I thought,” John admits wryly. “And he’s worried that the SGC is going to—you know.” He breaks off, not wanting to upset Timos more by actually saying it out loud.

 

Rodney snorts. “Well, _that’s_ not going to happen.”

 

Timos looks up at Rodney. “Huh?”

 

“I’ll have you know that I’m the smartest man in two galaxies, and I’m telling you it’s not going to happen,” Rodney says, deadly serious. “First of all, they’d have to go through Teyla and Ronon. And second, they’d have to go through _me_.”

 

John feels some of the tension leave Timos, and he’s grateful that Timos trusts John’s stories even if he can’t trust that John will be able to protect him.

 

“Third,” Rodney says, throwing every bit of information at Timos in a manner that John remembers very well, “the SGC isn’t going to risk losing me _and_ Sheppard, which is what will happen if they so much as try anything you don’t like.”

 

John’s eyebrows go up, feeling a warmth blossom in his chest. He’d kind of expected Rodney to be too caught up with Keller to even think about John’s problems. “McKay. I didn’t know you cared.”

 

Rodney glares at him. “Don’t be ridiculous,” he snaps. “Also, I’m hungry. Can we eat now?”

 

John grins, and Timos wriggles to be let down. He sets Timos on his feet and swallows a laugh when Timos takes Rodney’s hand, causing Rodney to stare at the kid in surprise.

 

“Yes, well, okay,” Rodney blusters. “Food now.”

 

But John notices that Rodney doesn’t let go of Timos’ hand.

 

~~~~~

 

God help him, but Rodney likes the kid. He wonders if this is what John had been like as a child, how much of John is in Timos. Carson’s clone has Carson’s memories—most of them anyway—so he’s Carson. Timos has none of John’s memories, no memory at all, really, and so he’s only himself.

 

But he reminds Rodney of John, and he seems to like Rodney, even though most kids don’t—his niece, Madison, and Timos being notable exceptions to the rule.

 

“You want to play video games after lunch?” John asks as they’re finishing their lunch.

 

Rodney frowns. “I do have a job.” He sees Timos’ face fall, and he quickly adds, “But we can get dinner together and maybe play games after that.”

 

“Or perhaps watch a movie,” Teyla suggests hesitantly. “I would like to join you.”

 

“Me, too,” Ronon agrees.

 

Timos brightens. “A movie? John has told me about those. I want to see one.”

 

“Then we will,” John agrees. “We’ll play video games this afternoon.”

 

Rodney knows that Carson and Jennifer will rush the DNA results, which means they’ll probably have an answer by this afternoon, or tomorrow morning at the latest. But it’s not like he can tell John as much. If John hasn’t figured it out already, Rodney wants him to be surprised; it will work better that way.

 

But they’ll cross that bridge when they come to it.

 

Rodney has no idea how to break the news to Timos, but he’ll let John do that. He just needs to figure out how to explain it all to John.

 

He heads to his lab after lunch, rushing to get through all the things that have piled up. Between being on Earth for a month, and then the search for John, he has a lot to catch up on.

 

Although Zelenka has done an admirable job—not that he’s said as much out loud.

 

Zelenka had been good enough to keep him updated while he’d been on Earth—at least about anything unrelated to John’s absence—and he skims the latest report from his second-in-command now, summarizing the last week’s work, and flagging the items he knows Rodney will be most interested in.

 

By late afternoon, Rodney feels as though he has some idea of what’s going on in the science department, and a clear picture of what he’s going to need to do next.

 

“Radek,” he calls. “Can I talk to you privately?”

 

Zelenka gives him a sharp look but says, “ _Ano_. Let me save this.”

 

Zelenka’s lab is quiet and empty, for which Rodney is grateful. He’s not sure how well his announcement will be received.

 

“What did you want to say?” Zelenka asks.

 

Rodney hesitates, then blurts out, “You’ve done really good work,” because he thinks this might go over better if he butters Radek up a bit first.

 

Zelenka snorts. “This, I know. So, what do you want?”

 

“Woolsey seems to think that the SGC will order Sheppard back to Earth for a debriefing,” Rodney begins.

 

Zelenka nods. “Not surprising.”

 

“I’m going with him if that happens.”

 

Zelenka’s blue eyes sharpen, and an odd smile tilts his lips. “Also, not a surprise.”

 

“I won’t ask if you’ll be okay in my absence, because it’s clear you will be,” Rodney says brusquely. “But do you mind?”

 

“Colonel Sheppard will need you,” Zelenka replies. “And the boy will need you, too.”

 

“Timos,” Rodney corrects him absently. “His name is Timos.”

 

“A good name,” Zelenka replies. “You like this child.”

 

Rodney shakes his head. “He’s Sheppard in miniature.”

 

Zelenka nods. “I will attempt to hold down the fort in your absence, if you promise to bring Colonel Sheppard back in one piece. Atlantis pines for him.”

 

“Well, with two of him, the city should be twice as happy,” Rodney mutters. Then, realizing he’d yet to show his gratitude, he says, “Thank you.”

 

“Just bring the colonel back in one piece,” Zelenka replies, patting Rodney awkwardly on the arm. “We have been too long without him.”

 

Rodney doesn’t know what to say to that.

 

~~~~~

 

Movie night is a rousing success. John picks out _Back to the Future_ , because he thinks that’s safe enough for a kid, although he warns Rodney ahead of time that he’s to keep his mouth shut. “Let him enjoy the film.”

 

Rodney had rolled his eyes. “He needs to learn sooner or later that the science is junk.”

 

“Later,” John had replied firmly. “I think he’s seen enough science up close and personal.”

 

Rodney had winced at that. “Right. Well. I’ll try to restrain myself.”

 

John has no idea if Timos will ever associate science with something other than Michael’s labs and painful tests, but he hopes those memories will fade as time goes by.

 

Of course, John knows from experience that painful memories never completely disappear; they always leave their mark.

 

Timos loves the movie. He stares, completely enthralled, his eyes wide. John half expects him to ask questions all the way through, but he stays silent, straining to catch every word. John knows he’ll have plenty of questions later.

 

“Can we watch another movie?” Timos asks, when the credits roll. “Please?”

 

John grins. “Maybe tomorrow night, kiddo. I think it’s bedtime now.”

 

Timos’ face falls dramatically. “Please?”

 

“I think the others have work tomorrow,” John replies.

 

Timos turns pleading eyes on the others. “Do you? Can we watch another movie?”

 

“I have students early tomorrow,” Teyla replies. “And Kanaan is returning to Atlantis with Torren.”

 

“Do I get to meet Torren soon?” he asks, quickly distracted.

 

Teyla smiles. “Tomorrow, I promise. We will have lunch together.”

 

“Can I hold him?” Timos asks.

 

“I think that can be arranged,” Teyla replies. “If you are very careful. He is still small.”

 

“I know,” Timos says. “I promise. He’s John’s namesake.”

 

Teyla nods. “Yes, his name is Torren John. And I know you will be careful.”

 

“Maybe we could play another game?” Timos wheedles, looking at John.

 

And John really can’t blame the kid. The last month and a half, he’s been cooped up in one room with no entertainment other than the stories that John could tell. Now, the whole world is his oyster—movies, video games, you name it—as long as he doesn’t have to read.

 

Tomorrow, John is going to have to start working with him on that. If Timos is going to stay with him, he’s going to have to learn how to read.

 

Ronon shrugs. “I could play a game.”

 

Rodney hesitates. “Maybe just one.”

 

Teyla smiles. “Sleep well, Timos,” she says, and kisses him on the forehead, before turning to John, pressing her forehead to his.

 

It’s good, this ritual, feeling Teyla’s hands on his shoulders, smelling that distinctive Athosian soap. It tells John that he’s home.

 

Timos watches her leave with wide, worshipful eyes, and John exchanges a smirk with Ronon.

 

He wonders whether it’s in the nature of all boys to develop a crush on an older woman; John still remembers his sixth grade teacher fondly, and Rodney’s talked about his chemistry teacher enough times with eyes glazed over from remembered hormones. He’s never asked Ronon whether there was an older woman, but maybe he will.

 

He has the chance now; he can ask anything he likes.

 

And suddenly, John is exhausted, and completely wrung out from the day’s events. Unlike Timos, he hadn’t taken a nap. “I’m sorry, buddy, but I don’t think I can stay up.”

 

Timos gives him a sharp look and nods. “Okay,” he agrees. “If you’re tired, John.”

 

“You should get some sleep,” Rodney says. “Tomorrow is another big day.”

 

John hesitates. “When is the next dial-out?”

 

“Tomorrow afternoon,” Rodney replies. “Mr. Woolsey decided to stick with the regular time so he could send a complete report.”

 

John nods. “And the _Daedalus_ isn’t due for another couple of weeks?”

 

“About ten days,” Rodney confirms. “John, it’s going to be okay.”

 

John nods. “I know.” And he does know, because he has his team, and he’ll do whatever it takes to _make_ it okay.

 

He gets about three hours of uninterrupted sleep before Timos’ whimpers wake him. Someone had found a cot for Timos, pushed as close to John’s bed as possible, and John reaches out to shake Timos awake.

 

“Hey, kiddo,” John calls. “Timos. It’s okay.”

 

Timos screams, and the sound paralyzes him. Timos had sounded just like that when Michael had tortured him in John’s place. But Timos is here now, and John can comfort him. He pulls Timos to him, ignoring Timos’ flailing limbs until he wakes, his hazel eyes dark and wide.

 

“John,” Timos sobs out. “John.”

 

“I’m here, buddy,” John assures him, curling his body around Timos’. “It’s okay. You’re safe now. Come on, deep breaths. It’s okay.”

 

He keeps up the litany until Timos’ sobs subside, and then he gently sets Timos on his feet. “Hang on,” John instructs. “I’m going to be right here.”

 

Dragging the mattresses off the cot and his own bed, John shoves them together on the floor and drags the blankets over the top. “Okay, here we go,” John says.

 

When he lies down, Timos curls up next to him, hands clutching John’s t-shirt. John rubs the kid’s back, listening as his breathing evens out.

 

And he remembers.

 

~~~~~

 

_The guards toss him back in his cell, their hands rough and uncaring, and John’s shaky enough on his feet to go down to his knees. He’d half-expected, half-hoped that his second escape attempt would end in either freedom or death, but instead the tests had begun anew, with no sign of abating._

_In fact, today Michael had smirked as he’d begun the latest series of injections, and had said, “I hope you like my gift, Sheppard.”_

_John doesn’t have the energy to spare wondering what Michael had meant._

_He stumbles over to the makeshift mattress and collapses for all of a minute before he hears a scuffling sound._

_“Hello? Who’s there?” John calls._

_There’s no answer, and he pushes himself up weakly. “Come on,” he says. “I’m not in great shape right now, so please, don’t make me come after you.”_

_A small, ragged figure emerges from the shadows in the one of the darker corners of the room._

_“Hey,” John says, trying to summon a smile. He knows kids are capable of effecting a lot of damage—he had a friend killed in action in Iraq by a suicide bomber under the age of fourteen—but if Michael wanted him dead, he’d had a lot of opportunities. “My name is John. What’s yours?”_

_“Timos,” comes the timid whisper._

_“Timos,” John says. “That’s a good name. Are you here by yourself?”_

_Timos nods._

_“I’m sorry, buddy, but I can’t go over to you. You want to come here?”_

_The kid edges closer. He’s small, even scrawny, with dark, messy hair that falls around his face and hides his eyes and most of his expression._

_“Where are your parents?” John asks. “Are they around?”_

_Timos shakes his head. “I don’t remember,” he whispers._

_John tries for a smile. “Okay. That’s okay. What do you remember?”_

_“My name is Timos.”_

_John feels a sense of unease that he can’t quite put a name on. “How long have you been here?”_

_“I’ve always been here,” the boy says simply._

_He swallows hard. “You want to come sit next to me?”_

_Timos edges closer slowly, like a feral, skittish cat, and John carefully doesn’t move, waiting for the boy to approach him. When Timos settles on the thin mattress next to John, he counts it a small victory._

_“You okay?” John asks._

_Timos shrugs._

_“You mind if I lay down for a bit?” He’s either going to lie down or fall down._

_Timos shakes his head. “Can I stay with you?”_

_There’s an aching loneliness in Timos’ voice that John recognizes. “Yeah, buddy. Of course. As long as you want. We’ll get out of here together.”_

_At the time, he’d believed he could get them both out._

 

~~~~~

 

Rodney answers the radio call absently, as he’s in the middle of a simulation.

 

“Rodney, you asked to hear the results first,” Carson says.

 

He doesn’t hesitate. “I’ll be there in five minutes.” He gestures to one of the newer scientists on Atlantis. “You! Come here. Watch this for me.”

 

The man stiffens. “Excuse me, I—”

 

“Move it!” Rodney orders. “This is groundbreaking research that might win a Nobel. You can’t say the same. So, if you don’t fuck this up, you might get a nod in my award winning article.”

 

Zelenka, from the other side of the lab, calls out, “Do not argue. You’re on probation. McKay is the head of department. So, do the smart thing.”

 

The man gives way with ill grace, but Rodney doesn’t give a rat’s ass about someone’s attitude, just as long as they get the job done.

 

He’s been accused of having a bad attitude a time or two, as a matter of fact.

 

When the door to Carson’s office slides closed behind him, Carson says, “I want to say that the only reason I’m giving you this information is because John will take it better if you’re here, although I’ll do whatever I can to soften the blow.”

 

Jennifer is sitting in the other chair in front of the desk, which tells Rodney that Carson is taking the lead in this matter.

 

Even Rodney, who is admittedly terrible with people, understands that. He also knows that might have something to do with John trusting Carson more than Jennifer, and Carson being a clone—well, maybe not Carson being a clone, because Rodney is pretty sure that John has no idea that Timos might be _his_ clone.

 

It probably has more to do with the fact that Carson has seen John through thick and thin, but Jennifer is a relative newcomer.

 

“I was right, wasn’t I?” Rodney blurts out.

 

Carson smiles a bit at that. “Yes, you were right.”

 

Rodney feels a stab of fear. “Will he have the same problem that you did?”

 

“No, Michael seems to have solved that problem,” Carson replies. “That’s not to say there won’t be other difficulties as the boy ages, but for right now, he’s as healthy as someone can be after what he experienced, and he’s an exact genetic match to Colonel Sheppard.”

 

Rodney heaves a sigh of relief. “Then the SGC will have to let John keep him.”

 

Jennifer clears her throat. “Not necessarily, and even if they do, they might not agree to let Timos stay on Atlantis. This isn’t exactly the best place for a child.”

 

“Teyla has Torren here,” Rodney insists, “and Atlantis needs Sheppard. We all do. And someone with Timos’ gene should be here, too.”

 

“Good luck convincing the SGC of that,” Carson muttered. “The only reason they let me come back was because they didn’t know what else to do with me.”

 

“I don’t care,” Rodney insists. “If the SGC wants to send him back to Earth, or if they try to separate them, I’ll make them regret it.”

 

He can do it, too. There’s no way the SGC will fire him, not after using him as the face of the science team. Rodney has just done a lecture tour, smoothing the way for declassification. If he tells the SGC that he’ll quit if they won’t let John keep Timos on Atlantis, he’s pretty sure they’ll back down.

 

And if they call his bluff… Well, Rodney doesn’t think he can stay on Atlantis without John. He’s had a taste of that, and he didn’t like it.

 

He can tell from Carson and Jennifer’s expressions that they don’t believe he can get it done, but he doesn’t care. They don’t have to believe him. Rodney is used to doing the seemingly impossible.

 

“Give me the files,” Rodney insists. “Whatever I need to make John believe it. But Timos is going to be okay?”

 

“It seems that way,” Carson replies. “But only time will tell.” He types quickly. “I’ve sent you the information. Go easy with him, Rodney. The colonel has been through a terrible ordeal.”

 

“I know,” Rodney says. “I know all too well.”

 

He has no idea how he’s going to get John away from Timos long enough to impart this news. John has been keeping the kid close, and he’s seen for himself that Timos isn’t comfortable letting John out of his sight.

 

In the end, Rodney recruits Teyla, because he remembers Timos’ excitement over meeting Torren. “I need you to distract Timos while I talk to John,” he says.

 

“Is this about Timos?” she asks.

 

“Sort of,” Rodney replies. “It’s about him and John, and I think it will be better if I talk to John alone.”

 

“Then I will be happy to distract Timos,” Teyla replies. “But Rodney, he does not like to be apart from John. I don’t know how long I’ll be able to keep him occupied.”

 

“I need thirty minutes,” Rodney says. “Anything past that is a bonus.”

 

Teyla nods. “I think I can buy you that much time.”

 

Timos is distracted by lunch, and when then by Torren when Kanaan enters the mess. “Come sit between us,” Teyla invites Timos. “And you can hold Torren.”

 

“Can I talk to you for a minute?” Rodney asks John in a low voice.

 

John glances at Timos. “I don’t—”

 

“It’s important,” Rodney insists. “And it needs to be alone. Let’s go out on the balcony.”

 

John nods hesitantly. “Timos, I’m going to be right outside if you need me.”

 

Timos glances at John, says “okay,” and goes right back to gently stroking one of Torren’s chubby cheeks.

 

John huffs a laugh. “I guess that shows where I fall in this. All right, Rodney.”

 

Rodney leads the way outside, and he’s grateful to see the empty balcony. “I have some news,” he says as the door slides shut behind them. “I asked Carson if I could be the one to tell you.”

 

John frowns. “Is it Timos? Is he okay?”

 

“Timos is fine,” Rodney replies immediately. “Considering what you’ve both been through. Carson isn’t worried about him.”

 

“Okay, then what?” John asks, crossing his arms, his expression closed off and distant.

 

Rodney sighs, knowing that this isn’t going to be easy. He decides to go the roundabout route. “I asked Carson and Jennifer to check this because of his ears, you know?”

 

John blinks. “His _ears_?”

 

“Timos’ ears,” Rodney explains. “They’re pointed like yours. The exact same shape, in fact.”

 

John put one hand up to feel his ears. “You’ve memorized the shape of my ears?”

 

Rodney blushes. “No. Well, yes. But how long have we been friends? I’m observant!”

 

“I know you are,” John soothes, his body language softening as he focuses on Rodney and not the news Rodney brought.

 

That means that it’s time for Rodney to be honest. “There’s a reason he has your ears and your eyes,” Rodney says quietly, leaning in close to John. “I suspect that with a haircut, that it would be even more obvious.” When John gives him a blank look, Rodney adds, “He’s your clone.”

 

John shakes his head, but Rodney can tell that it’s a reflex. “No.”

 

“Michael seems to have perfected his technique,” Rodney continues. “Timos is fine. He doesn’t need any additional injections.”

 

John is still shaking his head, still in denial. “No, there’s no way. Carson had his memories.”

 

“Because Michael _let_ him have those memories,” Rodney suggests. “You said Timos doesn’t remember anything before Michael.”

 

John freezes, and Rodney can see when the information sinks in, and all the pieces fall into place.

 

John isn’t stupid, and Rodney suspects that John has always known on some level but couldn’t see the forest for the trees. He’d been in survival mode, trying to keep them both alive, and Rodney isn’t sure that he’d recognize himself at age 7 or 8, not under those circumstances.

 

“He can’t be like me,” John mutters, his expression haunted. “He—”

 

Rodney has no idea what John is talking about, but he can guess. “He’s _not_ you.”

 

John stiffens. “But you just said—”

 

“Listen to me.” Rodney speaks slowly, trying to get through John’s shock. He’s making this up as he goes along, but he knows John just about better than anyone. “He’s your genetic clone, but he doesn’t have your memories or your experiences or your family. After what he’s been through—with you—he’s already a different person.”

 

John nods slowly. “I just don’t want him to be like me.”

 

Rodney has no idea what to do with that, and so he lets it go, deciding that he can ask questions later. He doesn’t think they’ve got a lot of extra time right now. “The important thing is that you’re his only parent, John. He’s genetically yours, even if you didn’t get him the usual way. The SGC can’t take him away from you.”

 

John frowns. “They could. Or they could tell me I can’t keep him on Atlantis.”

 

“And then they lose me, too.” Rodney replies fiercely, not stopping to question his motivations. “Besides, I’ve got a plan. Do you trust me?”

 

A slow smile blooms on John’s face. “Always.”


	4. Chapter 4

“You and the boy seem very attached.” Murphy insists on wearing his service uniform—blue pants and short-sleeved shirt, although he’s ditched the tie. It sets him apart from the rest of the crew, which is part of why John doesn’t quite trust the lanky, graying man with thinning hair, and a deeply lined face.

 

The lack of trust is nothing personal; Murphy seems like a nice guy, but John doesn’t _know_ him, and he’s afraid that Murphy is going to tell the SGC that he’s not fit to be a parent.

 

But Murphy is the one who’s going certify John fit for duty, and he’s said he wants to talk to Timos, too.

 

Of course, he’s expecting the SGC to order him back to Earth for a while, whatever Murphy says.

 

“We spent almost two months together, in the same room every day, being tortured by the same—person, for lack of a better word,” John replies. “I’d be a coldhearted bastard if I hadn’t grown attached, and I’m the only adult Timos knows.”

 

Murphy nods. “I understand that he’s with you all the time.”

 

“He’s not with me now,” John points out.

 

“Who is he with?”

 

“Teyla,” John says. “Timos like her, and Torren fascinates him.”

 

Murphy nods. “You know that Timos needs to build trusting relationships with other adults.”

 

John frowns. “Yeah, because every adult other than me has hurt him. He trusts my team, because he knows they’re my family. We’re working on the rest.” He paused and added, “He seems to like Lorne. He knows Lorne took care of Atlantis for me while I was gone.”

 

“Do you want to talk about what happened with Michael?”

 

“Do I have a choice?”

 

Murphy smiles. “You always have a choice in this room, Colonel Sheppard.”

 

“Right,” John drawls. “Look, I have no idea what Michael did to me. I can tell you that most of the tests hurt. Sometimes, it felt as though my blood was on fire. Other times, it was like my bones had turned to ice. Some of it might have been necessary, but I’m pretty sure that he was just doing it to be a dick most of the time.”

 

Murphy doesn’t bat an eyelash at the mild profanity, and John thinks he’s probably heard worse. “Do you want to talk about how it made you feel?”

 

“What do you think?” John shoots back.

 

“It might help you.”

 

“No offense, but I doubt it.”

 

“Humor me,” Murphy suggests.

 

John narrows his eyes. “How do you think it made me feel?”

 

“Powerless,” Murphy suggests. “Particularly when you couldn’t save Timos.”

 

John swallows hard. “I fucked up, that’s the short answer. I didn’t get him out, we got recaptured, and he paid the price. That’s what Michael wanted.”

 

“He wanted a willing captive, and he knew he wouldn’t be able to control you without someone like Timos. You must resent him,” Murphy says.

 

John’s anger rises up. “Are you fucking kidding me? He’s not the cause of any of this. He didn’t ask to be there. Michael fucking _created_ him to keep a leash on me!”

 

“So, you don’t resent him,” Murphy says.

 

“He’s—he’s the only thing that kept me sane in that fucking hellhole. So, no, I don’t resent him. I’m grateful to him.” John realizes that he’s on his feet, and that he’d been shouting. He supposes that’s probably not a good idea if he wants to convince Murphy that he’s fit for duty.

 

He sits back down. “Sorry.”

 

“Don’t be sorry,” Murphy replies evenly. “That was an honestly emotional reaction.”

 

There’s a long silence.

 

Murphy clears his throat. “When a person has undergone torture, as you have, I don’t trust a lack of response. Stoicism only lasts so long, and only works so well. The fact that you’re angry means you’re dealing with what happened to you, rather than just ignoring it.”

 

John nods. “Yeah, I’m angry, and Michael’s dead.”

 

“Are you going to turn that anger on Timos, or your team members?”

 

John slumps back in his seat. “I never have before.”

 

“You’re very controlled, aren’t you?” Murphy asks.

 

John shrugs. “I have to be.”

 

“In this room, you don’t,” Murphy says.

 

“I think I do,” john counters. “You’re the guy who’s going to clear me for duty. You say you want honest reactions, but you can use that against me.”

 

“Why would I?”

 

“I don’t know,” John snaps. “But I don’t _know_ you, do I? I just know that I’m supposed to talk to you and somehow convince you that Michael didn’t drive me insane.”

 

“Did he?”

 

“This conversation feels insane,” John mutters. “But no. I don’t feel crazy, but all the crazy people probably tell you that, huh?”

 

“I think you’re sane,” Murphy replies quietly. “I think you were tortured for weeks, and you weren’t sure you were going to get away.”

 

“I knew my team would come for me,” John insists.

 

“Michael is good at hiding. You searched for Teyla and the Athosians for how long?”

 

John looks away, out the windows, to the blue sky beyond. “Too long.”

 

“So, you knew that it might take your team time to find you.”

 

“Yeah, I did.”

 

“And you hung on. You took care of Timos until your team could find you.”

 

“What choice did I have?” John asks.

 

“My point is that you did exactly what you had to do, and you did better than most would under the circumstances,” Murphy says. “If you’re angry, or if you have nightmares, or if you find the transition to being a parent difficult—it’s normal. And if you can’t talk to me, then please talk to your team.”

 

John blinks. “What?”

 

Murphy smiles. “Colonel, I’ve been doing this for a long time. Sometimes, my patients won’t talk to a shrink, but they’ll talk to a buddy, or a parent, or a girlfriend. Honestly, I don’t give a rat’s ass who you talk to. I just want to be sure you do.”

 

“My team will tell you I’m terrible at talking,” John counters.

 

“Oh, I think you’re pretty good at it,” Murphy replies. “You did just fine today.”

 

John huffs a laugh. “You aren’t what I expected.”

 

“I’ve worked with a lot of soldiers coming back from war zones,” Murphy responds evenly. “And my specialty is helping them recover from torture.”

 

“They’re going to want me to go back to Earth for a debrief,” John says.

 

“Probably,” Murphy agrees. “But that doesn’t change anything.”

 

“Why do you wear that uniform?” John asks.

 

“To remind people that I’m their shrink, and I’m not their friend,” Murphy replies. “And because I like it.”

 

John smiles. “Fair enough. Do you deal with kids?”

 

“I have,” Murphy replies. “And if you want me to talk to Timos, I’d be happy to.”

 

“I’ll think about it. I just want to see what’s coming first,” John replies.

 

Murphy lets out a breath. “Colonel Sheppard—John—Timos has formed a solid attachment to you, and biologically, he’s yours. There is no reason for anyone to object to you having custody. That’s what my report will say.”

 

“Thank you,” John says quietly. “I appreciate that.”

 

“If I’d thought otherwise, I would have said as much,” Murphy replies. “Now, I think our time is up, and you need to go find your boy.”

 

John takes a deep breath, feeling wrung out and exhausted, and more than a little relieved the session is over. But he figures as far as shrinks go, Murphy might be okay.

 

~~~~~

 

“The SGC has ordered you back to Earth for a month,” Woolsey says. “I’m assured it’s just for a debriefing. Major Murphy has said that you can return to duty at any time after that.””

 

Rodney watches John, and he can see that the orders aren’t a surprise. “And Timos?”

 

“He’s to go back with you. General Landry assures me that they’ll treat him as though he’s your natural child.”

 

“He _is_ my natural child,” John says, somewhat peevishly. “Genetically, he’s all mine.”

 

Woolsey winces. “A good point, and one the SGC is sure to honor.”

 

“I’m going back with him,” Rodney insists.

 

Woolsey frowns. “You were just on Earth.”

 

“On the SGC’s business,” Rodney reminds him. “I have a hell of a lot of leave saved up, and I’m taking it now. I’ve already talked to Zelenka, and he’s okay with it.”

 

Woolsey shakes his head. “You have a job here.”

 

“If you think, for one minute, that I’m going to let Colonel Sheppard out of my sight for a month, you’re an idiot,” Rodney snaps. “I went back to Earth, under protest, and you people lost him. You didn’t even do me the courtesy of an email to let me know he was missing. So, yes, I’m going, and you have only yourselves to blame.”

 

John covers his mouth with his hand, and Rodney knows he’s hiding a smile.

 

Woolsey clears his throat. “You may have a point, Dr. McKay.”

 

“I’m glad you see that,” Rodney replies. “If it’s an emergency, you can call me back, but Zelenka is more than capable of running the city. He’s already demonstrated as much.”

 

“Rodney, you don’t have to go back with me,” John says awkwardly.

 

Rodney gives him the same look he reserves for his especially stupid minions. “And what are you going to do with Timos while they’re debriefing you, hmm?”

 

John rubs his eyes. “I don’t know.”

 

“If I go, he can stay with me,” Rodney points out. “And you can both stay in my apartment, which will be better than the SGC.”

 

“Yeah, I guess it will,” John mutters, and Rodney can see the incipient panic on his face.

 

He wonders what’s finally pushed John over the edge—the idea of going back to Earth, or the thought of leaving Timos with Rodney, who doesn’t even like kids.

 

If Woolsey hadn’t been sitting right there, Rodney would have reached over, squeezed John’s shoulder, and told him to breathe—or he would have suggested they play video golf until the urge to hyperventilate passed. He knows from his own experience that breathing and distraction are the best responses to a panic attack.

 

But Woolsey _is_ there, and John’s stiff posture and clenched jaw suggests he’s not interested in comfort, not in front of Woolsey, not if it makes him look weak.

 

Rodney might be bad with people, but he’s good at figuring out John, and he knows it’s time to wrap this meeting up.

 

“So, we’re both going through the gate the day after tomorrow, and we’ll come back on the next _Daedalus_ run,” Rodney says briskly, rubbing his hands together. “If you need me back before then, I’m sure the SGC can dial Atlantis and send me through. Now, if that’s settled, we both have things to do before we leave.”

 

He hustles John out of Woolsey’s office, saying, “Teyla said they were going to meet us in the mess.”

 

“You don’t have to come back to Earth,” John protests in a low voice. “You’re needed here.”

 

“So are you,” Rodney snaps. “It’s not my fault that the SGC wanted me back on Earth for a month. If I had been here, I might have found you sooner.”

 

John grabs his arm and pulls him to a stop. “Hey, McKay, this wasn’t your fault. You know that, right?”

 

“Of course I do,” Rodney replies, squaring his shoulders. “It’s Michael’s fault, and maybe Woolsey’s for not telling me sooner.”

 

“I knew you’d figure it out,” John says quietly, his hazel eyes intense. “I knew you guys would find me.”

 

Rodney nods. “Just—let me do this. There are a number of people who owe me very big favors. If I come back with you, I can help you protect Timos.”

 

“Okay.” John looks away, and for a moment, Rodney can see the fear that John’s been trying so hard to hide. “I know you don’t like kids.”

 

Rodney shrugs. “I like _your_ kid, which is really all that matters.”

 

John stares at him for a moment, and then flushes. “Yeah?”

 

“He’s a good kid,” Rodney insists, “and they’re going to be worried about us, so we should go.”

 

John nods, giving Rodney an odd look. “I guess so. Thanks.”

 

“Don’t worry about it,” Rodney says, waving him off.

 

Timos is clearly watching for John when they enter the mess, since he’s up in a flash and running over to John and Rodney, throwing his arms around John’s waist. “You’re here,” he says sounding relieved.

 

“I just had to get through my meeting, buddy,” John says quietly.

 

Rodney still feels a pang, hearing John call Timos his buddy. Timos may have usurped his place, but Rodney’s feelings for John are bigger than their friendship. He’ll do anything to ensure John’s happiness, including making sure that John keeps Timos with him.

 

“Rodney!” Timos says, beaming at him. “Are you going to hang out with us today?”

 

“I can’t this afternoon,” Rodney says with real regret. “I have a lot to get done.”

 

Timos’ face falls comically. “Oh, right. You’re busy.”

 

“Hey, you’ll get to spend plenty of time with your Uncle Rodney,” John assures him. “Let us get our food, and I’ll tell you all about it.”

 

Timos nods rather reluctantly, but he obediently heads back over to Ronon, Teyla, and Kanaan.

 

“He likes me,” Rodney mutters, a little stunned.

 

John grins at him. “Well, _I_ like you, so it stands to reason.”

 

Rodney flushes, and wonders if he’s imagining it, or if John reserves that particular smile for him alone. “Nice to know.”

 

“Let’s get food, McKay. I’m starving.”

 

John fills his tray like he hasn’t eaten in ages, and Rodney is grateful for it. John had lost weight during his time with Michael—weight he didn’t need to lose.

 

As soon as John sits down, Timos moves to sit next to him, pressing up against John’s side as John plows through his food, which leaves Rodney to break the mood.

 

“We’re going back to Earth for a month,” Rodney says. “I’m going with John and Timos.”

 

“A month?” Teyla asks. “Why so long?”

 

John shrugs. “It’s a debrief, and maybe a vacation afterward.”

 

“Perhaps we should join you,” Teyla suggests.

 

“Knowing the morons at the SGC, they’re just going to sequester John for a couple of weeks and grill him, unless I can manage to cut it short,” Rodney grumbles through a mouthful of his sandwich. “But if you want to come out for the last week or so, we could probably swing a trip.”

 

John brightens. “We could go to the beach.”

 

Rodney grimaces, but he doesn’t have the heart to deny John anything right now. He’s got his extra-strength, homemade sunblock; he’ll survive one trip to the beach.

 

~~~~~

 

Stepping through the gate into the SGC feels like a punishment, like John has failed, and if Rodney hadn’t been with him, John wouldn’t have been at all certain he’d be allowed to go back.

 

But Rodney had bullied his way into accompanying John back to Earth, and he’s more than capable of bullying the entire SGC into letting them go back to Atlantis. Since John is mostly incapable of doing anything but focusing on Timos and his well being right now, he’s grateful that Rodney has his back.

 

To John’s surprise, General O’Neill is waiting for them, hands shoved in the pockets of his BDUs, rocking back and forth on his heels. “Colonel Sheppard, good to see you in one piece.”

 

“Thank you, sir,” John replies, striving to keep his voice casual.

 

O’Neill ignores Rodney to look at Timos, who’s half-hiding behind John’s legs. “And who’s this?”

 

“Timos, this is General O’Neill,” John says, putting a hand on Timos’ head and urging him forward. “This is Timos.”

 

John wonders what O’Neill sees, with Timos wearing Athosian castoffs, his shaggy hair falling into his eyes, the moccasins Teyla had found just a shade too big. He’s probably a little too thin, a little undersized, looking particularly waiflike here in the SGC in a way he hadn’t on Atlantis, among friends.

 

John doesn’t trust the people here, not completely. The SGC is too big, too much of a bureaucracy, for John to trust them.

 

But the fact that General O’Neill is there is either a really good sign, or a really bad one.

 

O’Neill squats down, bringing himself down to Timos’ level and holding out a hand. “Nice to meet you, Timos. I hear you kept Colonel Sheppard here in one piece.”

 

Timos offers a shy grin and his hand. “Nice to meet you,” he says in a whisper.

 

John pats him on the shoulder, feeling a sense of pride. Timos rolls with the punches.

 

“I’ve heard a lot about you,” O’Neill says. “I had to come see for myself.” He stands up. “McKay.”

 

John glances at Rodney long enough to see his thin smile. “General.”

 

John knows that means that Rodney has decided to play nice, at least for now.

 

“I’m sure you guys are tired,” O’Neill continues blithely, as though oblivious to all the undercurrents in the room. “But I thought we’d go out, get some dinner, introduce Timos here to some real Earth culture.”

 

John blinks, since that’s not at all what he’d expected. “Sir?”

 

“We’ll start the debrief tomorrow,” O’Neill says. “I insisted I be here for it, and I told Landry I’d babysit you guys for the evening.”

 

“I—we—don’t have civilian clothes,” John replies carefully.

 

O’Neill waves a hand. “This is a military town. No one’s going to look twice at a uniform. And I had Carter pick up some things for Timos. I didn’t think you’d have time, and I figured he wouldn’t want to spend all his time underground.” O’Neill winks at Timos.

 

John really isn’t sure what to do with that, so he asks, “Will Colonel Carter be joining us?”

 

O’Neill shrugs. “You don’t mind, do you?”

 

“No, I guess not,” John says carefully.

 

“Great!” O’Neill replies, rubbing his hands together. “And don’t worry, I’m picking up the tab. I’m sure you remember where the locker room is, Sheppard.”

 

Rodney stations himself outside the locker room. “I’ll wait for you,” he says as an airman hands John a plastic bag.

 

“What’s that?” Timos asks as John nudges him inside.

 

“Clothes,” John replies. “So we blend in. Remember when I talked about having secret missions and needing to look like everybody else?”

 

Timos’ eyes brighten. “This is a secret mission?”

 

“Something like it,” John agrees. He makes sure no one else is around, and then he sits down on a bench, moving Timos in front of him, his hands on Timos’ shoulders. “I need you to do something for me, buddy.”

 

“Okay,” Timos says immediately, even eagerly.

 

John smiles. “You remember when I promised I’d look out for you no matter what?”

 

Timos frowns. “You can’t anymore?”

 

“No!” John says immediately. “No, that’s not it at all. I made you a promise, and I’m going to keep it. No, it’s just—there are some complicated things, things about where you came from, and who your parents are, but the main point is that the people here have promised to treat me like I’m your dad, and you’re my kid. And you _are_ my kid, in every way that matters. So, to avoid confusions, I would really like it if you’d call me that.”

 

Timos wrinkles his nose. “I should call you dad?”

 

“Or something like that,” John says. “Daddy or father or—”

 

“I like daddy,” Timos says decidedly.

 

John smiles, and is momentarily grateful that Timos has chosen that name, which seems warmer, and completely divorced from his own father. “Okay,” he says. “Thanks. Now, let’s get you changed.”

 

John can only assume that someone had given Carter Timos’ approximate size, but he has no idea if it was Carson, or Keller, or even Teyla. But in the jeans—which had to be rolled up slightly—and the t-shirt—with a Batman emblem on the front, and John has to smile at that—Timos looks like any other kid. And when he shoves his feet into a pair of sneakers that John ties for him—tying shoelaces is not a skill Timos has learned yet—the picture is complete.

 

And suddenly, John can see what everybody else has been saying for the last week or two; he sees a reflection of himself at seven or eight, with his clear, hazel eyes, and the slightly pointed ears. John would have been wearing an Oxford shirt and khakis, but he can finally understand why everybody’s said that Timos is an exact copy.

 

“Lookin’ good,” he says, touching Timos’ cheek.

 

“I’ll blend in?” Timos asks, eager to please.

 

John smiles. “Yeah, kiddo. You’re perfect.”

 

When they emerge from the locker room, Rodney gives them a double take, and zeroes in on Timos’ t-shirt. “Batman? Really?”

 

“I didn’t pick it out,” John says, “and Batman is cool.”

 

Timos glances down at his chest. “Is this bad?”

 

“No, no, it’s fine,” Rodney says. “Good, even. But Iron Man is better.”

 

“You _would_ think so,” John replies without heat. “But you’re switching universes. If we’re talking DC, Batman is best.”

 

Rodney considers that for a moment. “Okay, I’ll give you that one.”

 

Timos frowns. “I don’t understand.”

 

“Don’t worry,” Rodney assures him. “I’ll bring you up to speed by the time we leave Earth.”

 

“You’re not going to brainwash him,” John protests.

 

Rodney smirks. “He’s a smart kid. He’ll see the truth on his own.”

 

Timos is smiling cautiously by now, apparently sensing that their argument isn’t serious. “Okay?” he ventures.

 

John squeezes his shoulder. “Don’t worry about it, buddy. Rodney is just going to show you a bunch of movies about people with superpowers.”

 

Timos brightens at that, probably because he loves movies, and he likes Rodney. “Like you, Daddy?”

 

Rodney shoots him a startled look, and John has no idea what to say to that. “Why do you say that?” he asks.

 

“Because you can make things on Atlantis work,” Timos says.

 

“So can you,” John replies. “And so can Rodney.” Wanting to short circuit the discussion, John says, “I’ll bet the general and Colonel Carter are waiting for us.”

 

Sure enough, O’Neill is speaking with Carter in the hallway near the main entrance, and they both smile when they see them coming. John spots the child-sized jacket in Carter’s hand, the twin to the one he’s currently wearing.

 

“John,” Sam says, and goes to hug him in much the same way Elizabeth would have had she still been around. “It’s so good to see you in one piece.”

 

“Relatively speaking,” John says, hugging her back. “Thanks for the clothes.”

 

“I forgot to include the jacket,” Sam replies, holding it out to Timos. “I’m Sam.”

 

Timos manages a smile as he takes the jacket. “Thank you. It looks like Daddy’s.”

 

“Yeah, it does,” Carter agrees. “I thought you might like it.” Timos pulls it on and squares his shoulders, and she adds, “Very handsome, just like your dad.”

 

If John hadn’t liked her so much before—and he likes and respects Carter a great deal—she’d have won his heart then, just for the way Timos beams at her.

 

“And I’m Jack,” O’Neill adds.

 

Timos frowns. “I thought your name was General.”

 

Carter snorts before she can hold back, and John manages to contain his smile with some effort. Rodney mutters, “He wishes.”

 

“My name is Jack O’Neill.” And O’Neill looks plenty amused himself. “General is my title, like Sheppard here is a lieutenant colonel, and McKay is a doctor.”

 

“Okay,” Timos agrees dubiously, which means that he’s going to be thinking it over.

 

In all honesty, John had expected the worst of their time on Earth. He hadn’t thought they’d let him or Timos off the base, although with Rodney around, he’d figured the chances of that were better. But O’Neill takes them to his favorite pizza place and expounds on the wonders of pepperoni while Carter looks on indulgently.

 

It feels almost like a double date, although that’s stupid. Rodney is straight, and uninterested in John, except as a friend, although John has heard a few rumors about O’Neill and Carter. By the end of the evening, he’s not sure what to believe, but it’s clear that they both really like kids, and are good with them, and Timos clearly likes them, too.

 

“You know, there’s a science museum in Denver,” Carter says after Timos has stuffed himself. “If you’re going to be busy with the debriefing tomorrow, I’ll be happy to take him.”

 

Rodney perks up at that. “I haven’t been there yet. Is it any good?”

 

John absolutely does _not_ feel jealous over them making plans to take _his_ kid to the science museum, or to the zoo. In fact, it’s a good thing for Timos to get out with other adults, to form attachments to people other than John, like Murphy had said.

 

He still wants to protest, though, which is largely why he keeps his mouth shut.

 

Timos looks from Rodney to Carter, and then to John. “Aren’t you coming, too?”

 

“I can’t, buddy,” he says gently. “I have to answer some questions from the people in charge.”

 

There’s just a hint of panic in Timos’ eyes as he asks, “Can’t I come with you?”

 

John wants to say yes, but he knows that he can’t get away with it this time; he knows that the generals and the IOA might view him bringing Timos in as a sign of weakness, a demonstration that he can no longer do his job. “Not this time,” he replies. “Rodney’s going to be with you, though, and Sam will, too.”

 

And now Timos’ lower lip begins to tremble, and his eyes fill with tears. “Is it like another Test Day?”

 

John stiffens at the term, feeling the blood drain from his face, and he grips the table hard to keep himself in the here and now.

 

No way is he going to have a flashback in front of O’Neill and Carter. _No way_ is he going to let on how freaked out he is by the mere mention of a Test Day. If he does, Timos will panic, and they’ll make a scene.

 

And he might never get back to Atlantis.

 

“Hey,” O’Neill says gently, getting Timos’ attention, his voice sounding very far away to John over the rushing in his ears. “Did your dad tell you that I’m pretty much in charge?”

 

Timos turns to O’Neill, and John forces himself to take a few deep breaths, surprised when Rodney’s hand lands on his knee under the table.

 

“If you’re in charge, then you can let me go with him,” Timos replies, with all the logic of a child.

 

O’Neill’s expression turns rueful. “Well, I probably could, but Sheppard is going to have to answer a lot of questions, and I know he’ll feel better if you’re having fun with McKay and Carter here, and I need _you_ to keep them out of trouble.”

 

Timos’ skeptical expression suggested that he’s not buying O’Neill’s response for a second. “I can be quiet,” he bargains. “I’m really quiet.” He glances at John, and then turns back to O’Neill.

 

“You know what, I’ll bet you can,” O’Neill replies easily. “But sometimes it’s easier to talk about bad things that happened to you if the people you care about aren’t there.” O’Neill leans across the table, meeting Timos’ eyes with an intense stare of his own. “But I’m going to be there the whole time, and I won’t let anything happen to him.”

 

Timos relaxes fractionally. “Because you’re in charge?”

 

O’Neill nods. “That’s exactly right.”

 

“Okay,” Timos says, and John knows Timos will hold O’Neill to his word.

 

“We’re going to have fun,” Carter promises him.

 

Timos focuses on the table, but he nods.

 

Under the table, Rodney pats John’s knee, and mutters under his breath, “I’ll make sure of it.”

 

~~~~~

 

Rodney’s one-bedroom apartment is just as cluttered as the last time he’d been there, right before he’d stepped through the gate at the SGC and back onto Atlantis. He pays a cleaning lady to come by once a month, just as he has since he’d been able to afford one.

 

He probably should have closed the place up after he’d been sent to Atlantis, but he’s always viewed it as a bolthole, a place he could go no matter what.

 

And even though it’s probably not big enough for the three of them, Rodney is grateful he has a place to offer John and Timos. He doesn’t think they’d do well staying in the SGC for the next few weeks; it would be a little too much like Michael’s compound.

 

“I think I have some clean sheets in a closet somewhere,” Rodney says. “I can make up the couch, and I might have some spare blankets to put on the floor.”

 

“That’s fine,” John says. “I can sleep on the floor.”

 

Rodney frowns, feeling as though he should probably offer John the bed, but knowing that he probably won’t be able to walk tomorrow if he sleeps on the floor. “Are you sure?”

 

“I’m sure,” John replies. “It won’t be a problem.”

 

Rodney digs through closets and comes up with clean sheets and blankets for the couch, and a spare comforter and blanket for John. He wishes he had an air mattress or something else, and makes a note to pick one up tomorrow, or something similar.

 

“This is great,” John assures him.

 

“Okay,” Rodney says. “I, uh, I guess I’ll see you in the morning.”

 

John nods. “All right, buddy. Let’s get our teeth brushed and get ready for bed.”

 

Rodney lies in bed and listens to the sounds from the bathroom, and John’s low voice urging Timos along.

 

His bed is big enough for two, but Rodney isn’t sure he can make the offer right now. He’s not sure what he wants, if he’s honest with himself.

 

What he does know is that nearly losing John has driven home just how much Rodney needs him.

 

Rodney sleeps well, but when he emerges from his bedroom, he can immediately tell that John hasn’t. There are dark circles under his eyes, and he’s clearly dragging as he helps Timos tie his shoes.

 

“You’re going to have to learn how to do this,” John says quietly, apparently not having seen Rodney. “I’ll teach you tonight, okay?”

 

Timos nods, subdued, looking absolutely miserable. “I want you to come with us.”

 

“Listen,” John says, putting his hands on Timos’ shoulders. “When I get done with this, when I’ve answered all their questions, we’ll get to spend all kinds of time together. But right now, this is part of my job, and it’s important that I do this so we can go home.”

 

Timos manages a nod, but it’s shaky, and John pulls him into a hug. Rodney takes a step back and wonders what it says of him that he wishes John would touch him so freely.

 

Not that John doesn’t touch him, of course. John touches Rodney more than just about anyone ever had, and that includes his parents, his sister, and a number of ex-lovers.

 

Now is _not_ the time to turn maudlin, Rodney thinks. He hadn’t missed John’s near panic attack the night before. Now is _not_ the time to attempt to change their relationship.

 

And besides, John is straight.

 

By the time Rodney enters the kitchen, Timos has calmed, and John is sitting at the table, his head in his hands, looking unutterably weary. “Hey. We don’t have any breakfast.”

 

“Sam is supposed to pick us up,” Rodney replies. “We can grab breakfast on the way, or at the commissary before the briefing starts.”

 

John nods, and Rodney sees the dark circles under his eyes, and he knows John well enough to see his fear. “When is she due over here?”

 

Rodney glances at the clock. “We’ve got fifteen minutes. I don’t suppose there’s any coffee.”

 

“Not unless you stashed it somewhere I don’t know about,” John replies.

 

“There should be a Starbucks on the way,” Rodney replies. “They have scones.”

 

John nods, clearly still distracted by his thoughts. “Yeah.”

 

“What’s a scone?” Timos asks.

 

Rodney smiles. “It’s a kind of bread. You’re going to love them.”

 

The only thing he can do for John right now is look after his kid, introduce him to Earth food, and keep him occupied and distracted while John is answering questions from the IOA and the generals.

 

When Sam shows up, they’re ready—John in his Atlantis BDUs and Timos in the clothing Sam had bought for him. Rodney had left some of his clothes here, so he had something to wear that won’t raise any eyebrows.

 

The pants don’t fit without a belt anymore, but they’ll do for now. It’s not like he’s ever been a fashion plate.

 

They don’t have time to stop at the commissary after all, so John orders a piece of banana bread from the Starbucks drive-through, and Timos gets a blueberry scone, and they drop John off at the base.

 

“I talked to General O’Neill,” Sam says. “There will be a car waiting for you tonight when you’re done.”

 

“Thanks,” John replies. “Timos, I’ll see you tonight. McKay—” He stops, and Rodney doesn’t know what he wants to say, what he’d planned to say.

 

“Go,” Rodney says. “Don’t have too much fun.”

 

John rolls his eyes, but he manages a faint smile. “Try to stay out of trouble.”

 

“Excuse me?” Rodney replies. “I think you’re mixing the two of us up. I will come find you if you’re too late.” It’s a threat and a promise mixed up into one, and John ducks his head and exits the vehicle, but not before Rodney sees his smile.

 

And since Rodney is looking, he can see the relief pass across Timos’ face, and for the first time he realizes that he had been on the rescue team, one of the people who had gotten them out of Michael’s complex. John had told stories about Rodney, enough so that Timos had gone with Rodney willingly.

 

Rodney’s promise that he’ll find John means something to Timos; Rodney’s not used to that.

 

“You ready to go?” Sam asks Timos.

 

Timos nods, although his hazel eyes are suspiciously bright. “Yes, I’m ready.”

 

“Good man,” Sam says. “We’re going to have fun.”

 

She sounds determined, and Rodney nods. “You’ll see,” he promises. “Science is fun.”

 

Timos perks up a little bit at that. “What’s science?”

 

Rodney exchanges a look with Sam, who shrugs and smiles. “You’re up, McKay,” she says cheerfully.

 

They spend the rest of the drive explaining science in terms that Timos would understand—or at least, in terms that Timos could ask about. By the time they reached the museum, Timos actually seems excited about the trip.

 

Rodney pays for their tickets, and the girl on duty smiles at Timos. “I’m sure your son will have a good time,” she says.

 

“That’s not my daddy,” Timos pipes up, sounding offended. “He’s _Rodney_ ,” he says, as though that explains everything.

 

“His uncle,” Sam says smoothly. “His dad is deployed.”

 

The girl’s face goes soft. “Oh, of course. Well, I hope you guys have a great time today.”

 

“Nice save,” Rodney mutters as they move away from the ticket booth.

 

Sam shrugs. “I’m used to thinking on my feet. Timos? Do you want to see the dinosaurs?”

 

“What’s a dinosaur?” Timos asks predictably.

 

Dinosaurs take a good couple of hours because Timos needs every sign read to him, and he’s fascinated by the process of fossilization.

 

“Cool,” is his pronouncement over almost everything, sounding so much like John that Rodney’s heart skips a beat.

 

“O’Neill is looking after him,” Sam murmurs as they purchase tickets for the planetarium. “Sheppard is going to be fine.”

 

Rodney frowns. “Am I that obvious?”

 

“Only to me,” Sam replies with a smile. “You haven’t hit on me once.”

 

Rodney shrugs.

 

“You want to tell me something?” Sam asks in an undertone.

 

“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean,” Rodney replies stiffly, and lets Sam pay for the tickets because she’d insisted. “John is my teammate.”

 

“I know,” Sam says quietly. “I understand perfectly.”

 

Rodney realizes that she does. “Thanks.”

 

“O’Neill will look after him,” Sam insists. “So, stop worrying and enjoy.”

 

“You forget what happened the last time I let him out of my sight,” Rodney grumbles, but then they’re in the planetarium.

 

The show is on their solar system, and Timos watches with wide eyes and an open mouth, his fingers twitching as though he wants to fly.

 

It makes sense, when Rodney thinks about it. If Timos is John in miniature, he’ll want to fly as much as John does.

 

Rodney can’t imagine John as anything other than a pilot; if the sky is taken from him, Rodney doesn’t know that he’d even continue to exist.

 

“That was _awesome_ ,” Timos exclaims as it ends. “Can we see it again?”

 

“Aren’t you hungry?” Sam deflects.

 

Timos frowns, and then nods decisively. “Yes.”

 

“Let’s get something to eat,” she says. “We’ll figure out what we want to see from there.”

 

The café at the museum is pretty decent, and since Timos can’t read the menu—and Rodney makes a note to remedy that problem soon—he lets Rodney order for him.

 

Timos isn’t a picky eater, and maybe that’s because the quality of the food he remembers, or maybe it’s because John will eat just about anything, but Rodney isn’t going to question it. Instead, he orders a burger and fries for them both and watches as Timos attacks his food with a single-minded purpose.

 

“Do you think J—Daddy is okay?” Timos asks once he’s finished his burger and is working on his fries.

 

Rodney shares a look with Sam.

 

“I’m sure he’s fine,” Sam insists. “General O’Neill is with him, and he’d call me if something went wrong.”

 

“Okay,” Timos says, much subdued.

 

“Hey, there’s still a lot to see,” Rodney insists. “We’re going to have fun.”

 

They spend the next few hours wandering the museum, with Timos showing special interest in the wildlife exhibits, probably because he hasn’t seen a lot of animals. Timos starts flagging around 3, and Sam suggests ice cream.

 

Timos barely manages to finish his cone, his head bobbing, and his eyes sliding shut. Rodney shares an indulgent smile with Sam, who wipes Timos’ sticky face and hands with a napkin, and Rodney picks Timos up.

 

The boy puts his arms around Rodney’s neck and presses his face into Rodney’s shoulder, muttering something against his shirt. He can’t decipher the words, but that doesn’t seem to matter, considering that his heart stutters in his chest.

 

Rodney is beginning to understand why people have children.

 

He buckles Timos into the backseat of Sam’s car, and climbs into the passenger seat.

 

“You’re good with him,” Sam observes.

 

Rodney shrugs. “He’s basically a miniature version of John. It’s not hard.”

 

She smiles. “He’s a really good kid. He’s easy to like.”

 

Rodney leans his head back. “When I think about what happened to John, and to Timos, I keep going over what I could have done differently. I mean, I could have told the SGC to fuck off when they asked me to go back to Earth, but—”

 

Sam cuts him off with a brief chopping motion of her hand. “Don’t even go there. Trust me, you can go over what ifs all you want, but it’s not helpful. You got ordered back to Earth, and John was captured. You didn’t know. You did what you could _when_ you could. That’s what matters.”

 

Rodney doesn’t reply, because he honestly doesn’t know what to say. He still feels as though he’s failed John somehow, as though he should have known that something had gone wrong when John didn’t reply for weeks.

 

“Do you guys need anything?” Sam asks, neatly changing the subject.

 

“We’re going to need to stop by the grocery store,” he admits. “There’s nothing in the apartment for us to eat.”

 

Sam nods. “Well, that’s easy enough to fix.”

 

There had been a point in Rodney’s life when he’d have given just about anything to spend the day with Sam, even if it meant doing domestic chores. It’s beyond strange to peruse the aisles of a grocery store with Sam—especially since he wishes John were with him.

 

And isn’t that a kick in the head? All these years pining after Sam, and she’s right here, but the only person Rodney wants is John.

 

Timos is sleepy and sullen as they prod him through the grocery store, whining for John. “I want to go see him,” Timos complains, dragging his feet.

 

Sam keeps a smile on her face. “What kind of cereal do you want?”

 

“I don’t _want_ cereal,” he replies. “I want _John_.”

 

“I know, I do, too.” Rodney holds out his arms. “Come on, Timos.”

 

Timos sends him a deeply suspicious look, like he knows Rodney is trying to be a substitute for John and doesn’t think much of the proposition.

 

“I’m not him, but I’m the best you’re going to get,” he says firmly.

 

Timos heaves a great sigh and lets Rodney pick him up, laying his head on Rodney’s shoulder. “Do you have a preference on cereal?”

 

“What did we eat at home?” Timos asks referring to Atlantis.

 

Rodney makes a face, because he has no idea. “I’m not sure. Sam?”

 

“My nephews like Lucky Charms, and so does General O’Neill,” she offers.

 

Rodney shrugs philosophically. “I guess that works. Better get a box of Cheerios, too, just in case.”

 

They pick up a few more things—bananas and apples, eggs and bread, cheese and lunchmeat—plus a few frozen pizzas and a couple of frozen lasagnas. Sam throws in a package of Oreos and a gallon of milk for good measure, and then they head back to Rodney’s apartment.

 

He’d hoped that John would be waiting for them when Sam drops them off, but John is nowhere in sight, and there are no messages. Rodney spares a moment to wonder if he’d given John the number to the landline, and then decides it doesn’t matter. There are people on the base who have that information.

 

“Where is he?” Timos asks, sounding dangerously close to tears.

 

Rodney sighs. “I don’t know. I’m sure he’s fine.”

 

Timos starts sniffling, and Rodney has no idea what to do. “Do you want to play a video game?”

 

“I want _John_ ,” Timos replies in a near-wail.

 

“Oh, God,” Rodney mutters, beginning to resent Sam for just dropping them off without providing backup. “I want him here, too, but we don’t always get what we want,” he snaps.

 

And that sets Timos off in earnest, fat tears rolling silently down his cheeks. Rodney is a little freaked out by how silently Timos cries; his niece, Madison, cries loudly, dramatically.

 

The silence is almost worse.

 

“I’m going to put in a frozen pizza,” Rodney says deciding to ignore the tears and hope Timos stops crying on his own. “John will probably be hungry when he gets home.”

 

Rodney refuses to think about what it means that _John_ means _home_.

 

By the time he comes back into the living room, Timos has curled up in a corner of the sofa, pressing his face into the cushioned arm.

 

Rodney sighs and sits down next to him. “I want John to come home as much as you do,” he finally says. “General O’Neill and Sam are going to look after him.”

 

Timos snuffles but doesn’t reply.

 

“Sometimes, you have to trust other people to look after the ones you love.”

 

Timos raises his head. “Like you trusted everybody to take care of John, and he got hurt.”

 

Rodney winces. “That wasn’t their fault.”

 

Timos glares at him.

 

“Okay, some of it was their fault for not calling me sooner,” Rodney adds. “But it wasn’t all their fault. Sometimes bad things happen, and it’s nobody’s fault.”

 

He can’t believe that he’s paraphrasing Sam’s advice so soon after it had been given to him, but in saying it, he can almost believe that this hadn’t been his fault.

 

When Timos’ expression doesn’t soften, Rodney tries to find a way to explain it. “There’s nothing we can do. I _promise_ you that if I thought he was in danger, I’d be storming the SGC—or hacking their servers. We wouldn’t be here, anyway. But I trust Sam, and I trust General O’Neill, and they’ll take care of Sheppard.”

 

Timos sniffs and wipes his nose with the sleeve of his jacket. “Okay.”

 

“Okay?”

 

“Okay.” Timos nods. “Daddy trusted you, so I do, too.”

 

“How about a movie?” Rodney asks.

 

Timos looks hopeful. “You said we could watch superheroes.”

 

“ _Iron Man_ ,” Rodney insists. “I like him better.”

 

“Okay,” he agrees readily.

 

Timos falls asleep halfway through the movie, but Rodney figures that’s for the best since John doesn’t arrive until well after nine.

 

When Rodney opens the door to John’s knock, he’s struck by the weariness in John’s expression and posture. He looks older, worn down, and Rodney acts instinctively to draw him inside with an arm around his shoulders.

 

“Timos is asleep,” he whispers. “He missed you.”

 

“I missed him, too,” John murmurs.

 

He stumbles over to the couch and crouches down, brushing Timos’ hair away from his face. “Hey, buddy. I’m home.”

 

“John?”

 

“Yeah, that’s right,” John croons. “It’s John.”

 

“Daddy,” Timos says, blinking sleepily and smiling, and John strokes his hair until he goes back to sleep.

 

John’s knees pop as he stands up from his crouch, and Rodney grabs his arm. “Come on. We can’t talk out here.”

 

Rodney’s bedroom is still cluttered, but at least it’s dust-free, courtesy of the housekeeper, and he nudges John towards the big bed with its prescription mattress. “Lay down.”

 

“If I do that, I’ll fall asleep,” John objects, but he toes off his boots and sits down at least. “How was he today?”

 

Rodney shrugs. “He was perfectly behaved for the most part, but he had a minor meltdown when we got back. I dealt with it.”

 

John sighs. “God, I’m sorry, Rodney.”

 

“Forget about that,” Rodney says. “How was the debriefing? Bad?”

 

“I’ve been through worse,” John replies. “The one after Afghanistan—that was worse—but I didn’t disobey orders this time.”

 

“Then what is the point of all of this?” Rodney demands, keeping his voice low. “They know you didn’t do anything wrong.”

 

“They want to be sure I’m not compromised,” John replies, and there’s real despair on his face, and in his voice. “I’ve got two days of psych evals coming up, and probably more questions. I don’t know that they’re going to let me go back out in the field.”

 

Rodney can’t imagine John not going back to Atlantis. “What would they do?”

 

“Honorable discharge for medical reasons,” John says dully. “And with Timos, it’s even more likely. I almost want to let them do it, just get out and be done with it.”

 

Rodney has seen John defy odds so many times without flinching—even when Rodney had wished he would, had wished John were as careful with his own life as with those he commanded—but he’s worn down now, ready to give up.

 

And it isn’t Michael who had done it, but John’s own people.

 

“I’m not going back to Atlantis without you,” he says matter-of-factly, knowing that John will fight for someone else if he won’t fight for himself. “And if I don’t go back, the whole city will probably blow up. Hell, Atlantis doesn’t work right when you’re not there. You know that.”

 

“You can’t throw your life away for me,” John objects.

 

Rodney rolls his eyes. “Oh, my God. Don’t tell me that you’ve become completely stupid. I have offers from half a dozen defense contractors and almost as many universities. I could be a very wealthy man—well, a much wealthier man—and I wouldn’t be risking my life on a weekly basis.”

 

“So why don’t you?” John challenges.

 

“Because my team is on Atlantis,” Rodney replies simply, and he wraps an arm around John’s shoulders, because this is something he’s wanted to do for weeks.

 

John just sags into him, his forehead resting on Rodney’s shoulder, and Rodney can tell by the way John’s shoulders move that he’s breathing deeply, probably trying to get himself under control.

 

“Stay here tonight,” he urges. “The bed is big enough for two, and you need to sleep if you’re going to face an army of shrinks tomorrow.”

 

“Timos—”

 

“Timos knows where the bedroom is,” Rodney replies. “John, _stay_.”

 

John nods into his shoulder. “Okay.”


	5. Chapter 5

John wakes, feeling groggy and still drunk from exhaustion, but there’s no fear—he’s warm, sleeping on a mattress that rides the line between soft and firm, a heavy arm thrown over his stomach, anchoring him in place.

 

He’s at Rodney’s, in Rodney’s bed, with Rodney so close John can feel the warm puff of his breath, and he feels the pull of sleep again.

 

“Daddy?”

 

That’s what had woken him, and John props himself up on one elbow, ignoring Rodney’s sleepy, wordless grumbling. “Yeah? Bad dream?”

 

Timos is a shadowy figure in the doorway, shifting from foot to foot. “Yeah.”

 

John eyes the space in the bed next to him, and scoots a little closer to Rodney. “Come on, then.”

 

Timos crosses the room and scrambles up, curling up into a tight ball, completely hidden by the covers. John puts his hand on the bump that is surely Timos’ thin shoulder, and lies back down.

 

Rodney tightens his grip on John and mutters something into his pillow.

 

John sleeps and does not dream for the first time in far too long.

 

The next morning, he wakes with the sun, with Timos still a warm lump next to him, and Rodney’s arm warm and heavy across his chest. He wants nothing more than to stay where he is, and sleep the day away. Maybe after a couple of days of that, John would be able to shake this bone-deep exhaustion.

 

Too bad the generals and the head shrinkers have other plans.

 

John manages to extricate himself from Rodney’s grasp and climb over Timos without disturbing either of them. He’ll have to wake Timos before the car comes for him—the boy won’t forgive him if he leaves without saying goodbye.

 

He expects the day to be difficult at best, but at least Timos is well out of it. They’ve made noises about making Timos talk to someone, but John is holding fast as Timos’ guardian—he gets to vet the doctor first, and he’s still pulling for taking Timos back to Atlantis with him. Murphy is a decent guy, and John trusts him about as much as any other doctor—certainly more than he trusts any of the doctors at the SGC.

 

Rodney had apparently gone shopping, because John finds milk in the fridge and Cheerios on the cupboard, and he slices a banana over the top. He starts the coffee brewing, not terribly surprised when Rodney stumbles out just as it finishes up.

 

John pours a mug and hands it to him. “Thanks for last night, and yesterday.”

 

Rodney hums with pleasure as he sips the coffee. “It was fun.”

 

“Because you were with Carter?” John asks.

 

“It would have been better if you had been there.” Rodney generally tends towards bluntness, but that’s direct, even for him.

 

John has no idea how to respond to that. “You don’t—”

 

“Stop it,” Rodney says. “Think about who you’re talking to, and try again.”

 

“Thanks.” It’s the best option John has at the moment.

 

“Better,” Rodney replies. “I think there might be something playing at the theater that’s relatively appropriate for children. And then I thought I might try to find something that will get him started reading.”

 

John ran a hand through his hair and rubbed the back of his neck. “I was going to take care of that.”

 

“In your copious amounts of spare time,” Rodney replies dryly. “Between being questioned by generals for hours on end and going through psychiatric evaluations.”

 

“Yeah, somewhere in there.” John’s lips quirk up in a smile, and he knows he couldn’t have done this without Rodney along for the ride. The thought of leaving Timos alone with strangers is abhorrent, and he’s pretty sure Timos would have a complete meltdown.

 

Rodney shrugs. “If he’s as intelligent as you normally are, he’ll learn quickly. And maybe under my influence, he won’t be inclined to play dumb.”

 

John grins. “But it’s so much more fun when people underestimate you.”

 

“I’d prefer people to know exactly what I’m capable of,” Rodney counters. “They never know whether I’ll blow them up if they piss me off.”

 

“So, they don’t piss you off?” John asks.

 

“That’s the general idea,” Rodney admits. “If they think you’d blow up the SGC, they might be a little nicer to you.”

 

John has to laugh at that. “Maybe, but I wouldn’t bet on it.”

 

“Come seven tonight, we’re storming the SGC,” Rodney warns. “I expect a call before then at least.”

 

John nods. “I’ll give it my best shot. I should get cleaned up and changed.”

 

As Michael’s captive, John had gone without hot water, and he’s not entirely used to having it again. He takes his time, and by the time he finishes, Timos is awake and munching on Lucky Charms at Rodney’s table.

 

John runs a hand over Timos’ messy hair. “Hey, buddy.”

 

Timos mutters something through a full mouth that probably translates into, “This is good.”

 

“I have to go back to the base,” John says. “But you’re going to stay with Rodney again.”

 

Timos makes a face, but he nods. “’kay. But you’re coming back?”

 

“You bet,” John promises. “Remember when I told you about the doctor for the inside of your head?” When Timos nods, he adds, “I have to talk to a couple of doctors. It’s no big deal.”

 

Timos shoots him a skeptical look, maybe because John is using the same tone he used just before Michael’s guards dragged him away.

 

“I mean it,” John insists. “I came home okay last night, didn’t I?”

 

Timos nods. “Yeah.”

 

“And you’ll be good for Rodney?”

 

Timos nods, his mouth full of Lucky Charms again.

 

John wants nothing more than to spend the day in a theater, with Rodney and Timos, but he has hoops to jump through before he can go back to Atlantis, hopefully to stay.

 

“You’re going to be late,” Rodney says quietly.

 

John ruffles Timos’ hair and then stares at Rodney for a long moment. “See you tonight.”

 

“You’d better,” Rodney warns. “Storming Cheyenne Mountain is not completely off the table.”

 

John laughs, but he knows Rodney is mostly serious. It’s a promise he can take with him.

 

~~~~~

 

Rodney hadn’t factored in the dearth of movies available in the late fall. Actually, he hasn’t given much thought at all to the time of year, other than to note he needs a jacket when he’s outside.

 

Months, days of the week, even seasons don’t mean the same thing on Atlantis as they do on Earth, and Rodney is suddenly uncomfortably aware of how close Christmas is. He should probably get gifts while he’s here.

 

But he still has a movie problem.

 

“Can’t we watch _Iron Man_?” Timos asks as they stare at the list.

 

“That’s not in the theaters right now,” Rodney says. “Anything else?”

 

“I don’t know what the rest of them are about,” Timos objects.

 

Rodney sighs and looks at the young woman selling tickets. “This is my nephew, and he’s seven,” he says. “What would you suggest?”

 

“ _Bolt_ is good,” the ticket agent says. “I’ve seen it.”’

 

Rodney would rather not see a movie about a cartoon dog, but there aren’t many other options. “Yeah, sure.”

 

The popcorn is a big hit, but Timos doesn’t seem all that interested in the movie. He shifts restlessly through the first half and sleeps through the second, while Rodney spends the time wondering how John is holding up and what the hell he’s going to do with Timos for the rest of the day.

 

There has to be some kind of computer software that will at least teach Timos the basics of reading and math. Rodney has a couple of spare laptops in his apartment; he can give one to the kid and get him started while he works.

 

And he’s going to make a phone call, too, because there’s no way he’s going to be able to entertain Timos all day, every day on his own, if the SGC insists on keeping John on base.

 

Rodney nudges Timos awake when the credits roll, and makes their first stop a software store. When he picks up the brightly colored package that claims to be “good for giving your pre-schooler a head start,” Timos says, “That looks like it’s for babies.”

 

“It is,” Rodney replies bluntly. “But you have to start somewhere. Learn all you can from this, and then you can move on to something more advanced.”

 

Timos’ pout is exactly like John’s, and Rodney ignores it to start looking for something that will give Timos a basic understanding of math.

 

“Do you know how to count?” Rodney asks, trying to decide between a couple of programs, with one looking marginally less inane than the other.

 

“J—Daddy taught me,” Timos replies. “So I had something to do when…”

 

Timos falters and falls silent, and when Rodney glances down at him, his expression is shuttered, his eyes dark with memories, and he looks so much like John in that moment, Rodney feels something in his chest twist.

 

“Adding? Subtracting?” Rodney asks, deciding that distraction is the best response at the moment.

 

 Timos nods. “Yeah. I like numbers.”

 

“So do I,” Rodney says, and opts for the slightly more advanced program. “Numbers are easy.”

 

Timos is quiet and distant on the drive back to Rodney’s apartment, staring out the window in the backseat. Rodney gets McDonald’s on the way, and doesn’t bother asking what Timos will eat, since the answer to that question seems to be “anything,” and he’s not sure that presenting a lot of choices is what Timos needs right now.

 

Once they’ve eaten, Rodney sets up a laptop for him, starting the reading program. “Work your way through a few levels, and I’ll switch you over to math,” he promises, knowing that it will probably work well enough as a bribe.

 

The cheerful music that goes along with the game grates on Rodney’s nerves, and he’s grateful when Timos asks, “Can we turn the sound off?”

 

Rodney gives it another half an hour, and then he picks up the phone and dials a number he’s surprised to find he knows by heart.

 

When his sister answers, he says, “I need your help.”

 

“Hello to you, too, Mer,” Jeannie replies, her tone as snide as Rodney could have expected.

 

“Hi,” Rodney says perfunctorily. “Nice to hear your voice. But seriously, I need your help.”

 

He can _hear_ her rolling her eyes. “You know, as often as you need my help saving the universe, I’m beginning to doubt your competence.”

 

“It has nothing to do with science,” Rodney snaps.

 

“Are you dying again?” she asks suspiciously.

 

“I am _not_ dying!”

 

Timos glances up from his computer in alarm. Rodney waves a hand at him in what he hopes is a reassuring manner.

 

“Well, _that’s_ good to hear,” Jeannie replies, her tone dubious.

 

Rodney decides that the conversation is probably best had privately, and goes into his bedroom shutting the door behind him. “It’s John.”

 

“Oh, god,” Jeannie says immediately, and now she sounds truly worried. Rodney isn’t sure whether he should be insulted. “What happened?”

 

“He was missing, and tortured, but we got him back, and now there’s a kid,” Rodney blurts out. He knows better than to reveal the fact that Timos is a clone, but he adds, “And he looks _exactly like John_.”

 

Jeannie is _almost_ as smart as Rodney, and it doesn’t take her long to catch on. “Oh. _Oh_. Where’s John now?”

 

“At the SGC,” Rodney replies. “They debriefed him yesterday, and today they’re putting him through a battery of psychological tests. I came back with him, but I have no idea what to do with him.”

 

“Wait, John left the kid with _you_?” she asks incredulously.

 

Rodney rolls his eyes. “Please. He’s like a miniature Sheppard. I can handle a couple of days. But I think the SGC might keep John busy for the next two weeks.”

 

“Caleb can’t get away this time of the year, but buy a couple of plane tickets, we’ll get a hotel, and we’ll see what we can do,” Jeannie says. “But I need vital details—name and age.”

 

Rodney sighs. “Timos, and we think he’s around seven or eight. It’s hard to be exact. He doesn’t remember anything but his name.”

 

“Send me the flight information, and we’ll be there the day after tomorrow,” Jeannie instructs.

 

Rodney sighs. “Yeah, I’ll do that. And I’ll pick up the hotel, too.”

 

“Great. I’ll look forward to meeting Timos,” Jeannie says.

 

“Jeannie?”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Thanks.”

 

“I’m kind of getting used to you asking me for help,” Jeannie says. “And Mer? Make sure you get a hotel with a pool. Trust me on this one.”

 

Strangely enough, Rodney does.

 

~~~~~

 

John spends the day being very grateful to Rodney for the use of his bed; he’s fairly sure he would have been too exhausted to check some of his more problematic responses if he hadn’t slept well the night before.

 

He’s still exhausted, but at least he can remember how to fake his way through most of the tests.

 

And maybe he’s not a shrink, but John still doesn’t understand why word associations are a time-honored technique of psychiatrists everywhere.

 

By the end of the day, he’s wrung out, and he still hasn’t received word that he can leave the base. He finds a phone in an empty office and calls Rodney around five.

 

“Are you okay?” Rodney asks immediately. “Do I need to storm the SGC?”

 

“I’m just waiting for word I can leave,” John says. “Plus orders for tomorrow. How’s Timos?”

 

“Fine,” Rodney says airily. “I got him some educational computer games, so he’ll probably wow you with his new skills when you get home.”

 

 _Home_ , John thinks. Atlantis is truly home, but Rodney’s place is a decent substitute until they can go back.

 

And in truth, with Rodney there, the apartment feels more like home than it would have otherwise.

 

“Let me put him on,” Rodney says.

 

“Daddy! I learned the alphabet and I’m reading now!” Timos says.

 

“That’s great, bud,” John replies, feeling a little of the tension seep out of his muscles. “Did you have a good time at the movies?”

 

“It was okay,” Timos replies. “We saw—” There’s a pause, and John can hear Timos’ muffled questions as he asks Rodney what the movie was called. “It was a cartoon,” Timos says. “About a dog, but it wasn’t a _real_ dog.”

 

“You didn’t like it?”

 

“I wanted to watch _Iron Man_ again,” Timos says. “And they kept the dog prisoner. I didn’t like that.”

 

“Iron Man was held prisoner,” John counters.

 

“But he blew them up,” Timos explains. “Bad guys should get blown up.”

 

“Can’t argue with you there,” John admits.

 

“Are you coming home soon?”

 

“Just as soon as they tell me I can leave,” John promises. “Put Rodney back on, okay?”

 

“Okay, see you soon,” Timos says.

 

Rodney immediately says, “So, I asked my sister to visit.”

 

John’s eyebrows go up. “What? Why?”

 

“Because she has a kid, and she knows things,” Rodney says. “And because she’d kill me if I didn’t at least say hello while I’m on Earth, and you’re tied up at the SGC.”

 

Since John likes Jeannie quite a bit, he can’t find it in him to argue. “I’ll be home as soon as I can.”

 

“I’m putting a frozen lasagna in the oven,” Rodney says. “That’s about the extent of my cooking skills.”

 

“Works for me.” John hangs up and turns around to find O’Neill standing in the doorway. “So, what’s the verdict, sir? Am I crazy?”

 

“No more than anybody else who goes through the gate,” O’Neill replies. “And that’s pretty much everybody.”

 

“Crazy enough that I can’t go back through?” John asks.

 

O’Neill waves him to one of the chairs. “Have a seat, Sheppard. We need to talk.”

 

John feels his stomach sink. “Okay.”

 

O’Neill leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Here’s the thing: we need you on Atlantis. Everybody is agreed on that. I think I’ve managed to convince them that whatever additional recovery you might need, you’re not going to get here on Earth, and you’ll be better off on Atlantis anyway.”

 

“You’ve got that right, sir,” John says.

 

“There’s just one problem,” O’Neill continues. “However you want to put it, however it happened, you’ve got a kid now. Can you honestly say that you would put the mission above his life?”

 

John is quiet for a long moment. “I’ve thought about that,” he admits finally. “But I can’t come up with a situation where completing the mission wouldn’t mean saving Timos’ life as well.”

 

O’Neill nods. “All right, and now, just between the two of us, off the record, I want your real answer.”

 

John has heard the stories, vague rumors really, that O’Neill had a son who had died, so he doesn’t want to reopen old wounds, but he knows O’Neill is sincere. “If we stay here, I’d be entrusting Timos’ life to strangers every single day, and I know that anything could happen. On Atlantis, at least I know everyone on the city, and I’d entrust them with my life or with Timos’. I could ask the city to hide him, or he could. I could ask Teyla to send him to Kanaan with Torren, or evacuate him with the scientists.”

 

“You really have thought about this,” O’Neill observes.

 

“As much as I want to go back, I’d stay here if I thought it was best for him,” John admits roughly.  “But it’s not. We’ll be better off on Atlantis.”

 

“That’s what I thought you’d say.” O’Neill sighs. “Look, the IOA doesn’t actually have any authority over Teyla. They can’t discipline her for getting pregnant and having a kid.”

 

John winces, remembering how he’d responded to news of Teyla’s pregnancy.

 

“And they can’t discipline you for having the bad luck to get cloned,” O’Neill continues. “They’ve dealt with that before. They’re just used to shuffling the clones off somewhere they can’t do any harm.”

 

“Timos isn’t going to harm anybody!” John protests.

 

“No, but they’re going to have a problem explaining where he came from,” O’Neill counters. “Do you know what folks would do if they knew they could get a miniature version of themselves? There’s a lot of money to be made in the infertility industry.”

 

John winces, because he hadn’t thought about that. “What does it matter if I’m on Atlantis?”

 

“Which is a point in your favor as to going back,” O’Neill acknowledges. “But declassification is coming, and McKay is going to be part of it most likely. We’re not sure yet whether we’ll keep Atlantis’ existence secret. But if it does come out, we’re going to need a viable cover story.”

 

John shrugs. “I met Timos’ mom while on leave, didn’t know he was around, and found out about him after her death.”

 

“That’s the story we’ve agreed on. You’ll need to coach the kid.”

 

John grimaces, feeling vaguely uncomfortable at the prospect. It seems a little early to be teaching his kid how to lie, even if it’s only when necessary. “Okay.”

 

“And he’s going to have to see a shrink,” O’Neill insists.

 

John’s anger rises hot and fast. “Now wait a minute, we agreed—”

 

O’Neill raises a hand. “We did, and no one is going to talk to the kid without your permission, but they’re not going to send him back to Atlantis without being sure that it’s the best thing for him—which I’m sure is what you want, too.”

 

John stares at the floor and admits, if only to himself, that what he’s most afraid of is that he’s wrong. His instincts tell him that Timos will be better off on Atlantis, with John, but what if the psychologist disagrees? And worse still, what if the doctor turns out to be right?

 

What if the verdict is that Timos will be better off on Earth, with a new family, where he can have a normal, safe life?

 

“Who’s the psychologist?” John asks.

 

“We’re reading in a specialist in childhood trauma,” O’Neill replies. “She doesn’t know about the clone thing—we want to keep that as quiet as possible—but she knows you were both captured and tortured.”

 

“I want to be there,” John insists.

 

O’Neill shakes his head. “You can observe, but that’s as good an offer as you’re going to get.”

 

John rubs his eyes. He’s just so damn _tired_ he can’t think straight.

 

“Sheppard,” O’Neill says, his tone entirely serious. “I’m not going to order you to do anything in this case, but I’ll tell you that if I were in your shoes, I’d let Timos see the doctor.”

 

John takes the offered lifeline. “Yes, sir. I’ll do it.”

 

O’Neill nods. “Good. Go home, take tomorrow off. I managed to convince them to give you that much time anyway.”

 

John heaves a sigh of relief. “And when should I bring Timos?”

 

“Give it a week,” O’Neill says. “It’s going to take that long to get the doctor here and get her to sign the nondisclosure.”

 

John nods. “Yes, sir.”

 

“Get out of here.”

 

John doesn’t have to be told twice.

 

Timos is all over him as soon as he walks inside the apartment, launching himself at John, who catches him and swings him up. “How was your day?”

 

“Good! I like the computer programs Rodney got,” he says. “But the math one is better.”

 

John smiles, settling Timos on his hip. “Like the math, huh?”

 

“It’s easy,” Timos admits.

 

“Well, if you keep reading, that will be easy, too, and then you can read all kinds of stories.”

 

Timos frowns, clearly considering John’s suggestion. “But I like it better when _you_ tell the stories.”

 

John chuckles. “That’s good to hear, bud.” He looks over the top of Timos’ head to see Rodney standing in the kitchen, watching them. “Hey. Thanks.”

 

Rodney shrugs. “You’re just in time for dinner. We can talk later.”

 

John is honestly all talked out, but he attempts to rally. Timos chatters on, and John just has to nod and make encouraging noises as he picks at his lasagna.

 

“You’re not hungry?” Rodney asks in an undertone.

 

John shakes his head. “No, but I could really go for a beer.”

 

“You’re in luck,” he replies. “Sam regarded that as an essential staple.”

 

“Thank God,” John murmurs reverently, meaning every word.

 

Rodney grabs a couple of bottles from the fridge and hands one to John.

 

“What’s that?” Timos asks.

 

“An adult beverage,” Rodney replies before John can say anything. “When you’re older, you can try it.”

 

“But why is it for grownups?” Timos pushes.

 

John shrugs. “Taste it and find out.”

 

Timos takes a sip from the bottle and makes a face, looking completely disgusted. “Why would you _drink_ that?”

 

“When you’re older, you’ll probably like it,” John replies.

 

Timos sniffs. “I don’t think I’m going to get stupider as I get older.”

 

John nearly does a spit take. “He’s been spending too much time with you,” he says, looking at Rodney.

 

Rodney shrugs. “He’s your kid, which means a lot of that is you.”

 

“Can we play video games now?” Timos asks.

 

They play video games for the rest of the evening, until John judges it late enough to put Timos to bed. “Do you have to go to work tomorrow?” he asks.

 

“Not tomorrow, buddy,” John replies. “We’ll hang out together. Maybe I’ll show you how to skateboard.”

 

“What’s a skateboard?” he asks.

 

John grins. “You’ll find out tomorrow. Good night.”

 

“’Night, Daddy,” he murmurs sleepily. “’Night, Rodney.”

 

“Please tell me you’re not actually going to let him risk his neck,” Rodney says as soon as John closes the door to the bedroom.

 

John pauses for a moment to wonder at how natural it feels to be here, with Rodney, to spend the night in Rodney’s bed. They’ve shared a tent off-world, but it’s never been like this.

 

“I’ll make sure he wears a helmet,” John replies.

 

Rodney rolls his eyes. “At least that will protect his head, I suppose. What happened today?”

 

“Well, I’m not crazy,” John says.

 

“That’s debatable, considering that you’re thinking of getting on a skateboard tomorrow,”

 

John smiles and sits down on the bed. “They want to have a child psychologist check out Timos.”

 

Rodney sits next to him. “Are you going to let them?”

 

“Yeah,” John admits. “Yeah, I think so. O’Neill thought I should, to make sure going back to Atlantis is the best thing for him.”

 

Rodney stares at him for a long time, his blue eyes intense. “You’re worried.”

 

“They might say he’d be better off with a normal family.”

 

“Not if they have any semblance of intelligence,” Rodney shoots back.

 

“But they could.”

 

“If they’re _morons_ ,” Rodney insists. “I don’t even like kids, and I can see that he’s better off with you than with some strangers.”

 

It hits John suddenly and all at once—Rodney has maybe done more for him than anyone else ever has. He came back to Earth, he put John up, he put up with Timos, even though he doesn’t like kids.

 

John’s not quite sure what to do with that, and he knows Rodney is straight, but he leans closer anyway, almost in spite of himself.

 

“Oh, thank God,” Rodney mutters and puts his hand on the back of John’s neck, pulling him even closer, his lips meeting John’s, warm and sweet.

 

John sighs against Rodney’s mouth, and Rodney deepens the kiss, making a greedy sound, the same one he makes when he’s looking at his first pot of coffee.

 

When they break apart, John is breathing hard, and he feels as though he’s just flown the fastest jet, as though he’s broken the sound barrier.

 

“I thought you were in love with Keller,” John says.

 

Rodney shrugs. “In the month I spent on Earth, I didn’t miss her once. I missed you _the whole time_.”

 

John rests his forehead against Rodney’s, and wonders if he’s coming undone. He feels as though he might.

 

“You’re still exhausted,” Rodney observes.

 

“Yeah, a little,” John admits.

 

Rodney kisses him again, gentler this time, his wide, generous mouth a revelation all its own. “We can’t lock the door,” he murmurs. “But you can sleep here tonight.”

 

John can’t imagine being anywhere else.

 

~~~~~

 

In spite of Rodney’s protests, John drags him along the next day, first to Wal-Mart, and then to the closest skate park. Rodney bitches about the sun, and insists on slathering Timos with sunscreen, but he secretly enjoys watching them together.

 

John shows Timos how to balance on the board, how to stop, and then lets the boy try, running along side to ward of any major mishaps. Timos catches on quickly, his natural athleticism and youth standing him in good stead, and when he does take a tumble, he bounces right back up again.

 

At Timos’ request, they get pizza for lunch, and he’s buzzing with excitement from the morning’s exertions. “Did you see me, Rodney?” he asks for the tenth time. “Did you see?”

 

“Since I was sitting right there the entire time, of course I saw,” Rodney replies, but the sarcasm just makes Timos grin more broadly, and John smirks.

 

“Jeannie should be here tomorrow, sometime in the late afternoon,” Rodney says in an attempt to change the subject.

 

John frowns. “Is she going to be okay with everything?”

 

“Well, I know she likes you,” Rodney says. “It’ll be fine.”

 

“She’s your family.”

 

“And we normally live many, many—” Rodney catches himself before he says light years. “—miles away. She’ll deal with it. She probably thinks you’re too good for me.”

 

John ducks his head, a shy, pleased smile on his face. “I doubt that.”

 

“I don’t,” Rodney replies dryly. “Besides, she even said ‘you’re no John Sheppard.’”

 

John frowns. “What did she mean by that?”

 

Rodney blinks, realizing that John is serious. “You know what? Never mind,” he says. “She’ll probably be thrilled.”

 

“Thrilled about what?” Timos asks.

 

John winces, and Rodney says, “She’ll be happy I rescued John, and I know she’s excited to meet you.”

 

That changes the subject rather neatly, and they head home with Timos falling asleep within five minutes of being in the car.

 

“Let’s just drive,” John suggests from the passenger seat.

 

Rodney points his car north, towards the interstate, and then takes 24 towards Manitou Springs. The trees are bare, their autumnal glory having already passed.

 

John doesn’t speak. Instead, he reaches out and places his hand on Rodney’s thigh, and Rodney tries to ignore his immediate hard-on.

 

“Maybe tonight,” John murmurs. “After he’s asleep.”

 

Rodney shoots him a sideways look. “It’s going to have to be quick.”

 

“As long as it’s been, I think I can guarantee that,” John says wryly.

 

Rodney chuckles. “Yeah, same here.”

 

He doesn’t want to admit how long it’s been, but since John is in the same boat, Rodney doesn’t mind too much. He places his hand over John’s, and just enjoys the human contact, and the knowledge that John is right there next to him.

 

They turn around once they got to Manitou Springs, and Timos sleeps through all of it. The silence in the car is as comfortable as it usually is between them, but John’s fingers entwined with Rodney’s is something new.

 

Timos wakes when they arrive at Rodney’s apartment, but he’s still groggy, so John carries him up to the apartment, sitting down on the couch with him, turning on the TV to play quietly in the background.

 

Rodney sits down next to them, just a few inches away from John, who puts an arm over the back of the couch to rub the back of Rodney’s head.

 

He’s not sure what would make this moment better—the presence of the rest of their team, or maybe the possibility of sex with John.

 

Rodney’s sorry that they haven’t done this before, but he has no idea when they would have made the move.

 

They have _now_ , and that’s all they have, but he’s grateful for whatever he can get.

 

They order Chinese for dinner, and John patiently teaches Timos how to use chopsticks, laughing with him and Rodney at Timos’ clumsiness. Timos gives up and switches to a fork halfway through the meal, but John demonstrates his prowess by scooping up each grain of rice without letting one fall.

 

After dinner, Rodney pulls out his _Batman: The Animated Series_ DVDs, just to prove that cartoons aren’t all that bad, even if Timos had slept through half of the movie they’d gone to yesterday.

 

When John asks, Timos says, “I like superheroes. Dogs aren’t superheroes.”

 

Rodney wonders if Timos’ past makes it difficult for him to pretend, or to accept talking animals. According to Timos, _John_ is a superhero, so that’s a little easier for him to swallow.

 

They make it through five episodes, and then they tuck Timos in on the couch and disappear into Rodney’s bedroom.

 

“We’re going to have to talk to Timos about this,” John says once the door is shut behind them. “If he knows we’re sleeping together, and he says anything, things could get really sticky.”

 

“Will he be able to be discreet?” Rodney asks, suddenly aware of how much is at stake. If the SGC gets word that their relationship is anything other than platonic, things could get very difficult for John.

 

In fact, the SGC will probably welcome the reason to discharge him.

 

“I think so,” John says. “I hope so. Maybe we shouldn’t risk it.”

 

“Maybe we shouldn’t,” Rodney agrees. “But we can always tell people that you slept on the bed and I slept on the floor.”

 

“And if Timos says he slept with both of us?”

 

“Then we say I have a king-size bed that the whole team could share and not be crowded,” Rodney replies. “We _lie_ , if need be. I’m willing to do that for you. I’m not the one who needs to worry, remember? Nobody cares if I’m gay.”

 

John shakes his head. “I don’t want you to lie for me.”

 

“Who would believe me anyway?” Rodney asks. “Me and you?”

 

“They don’t seem to have a problem believing that we’re best friends,” John points out.

 

“That’s different,” Rodney replies. “And it’s a good cover. No one even raised an eyebrow about you staying here, or me coming back to Earth with you. We can do this. It’s worth it.”

 

John gives Rodney a long, searching look, and then he nods. “It’s worth it,” he agrees, and then he leans in for a kiss.

 

They stretch out on the bed, fully clothed, making out like a couple of teenagers. John’s rubbing up against Rodney’s leg, his thigh in the perfect position to give Rodney some much needed friction.

 

Rodney can’t forget that Timos is in the next room, that the door is unlocked, that they could be interrupted at any moment, but he doesn’t care. If Timos comes in, they’ll say they were roughhousing, and hope the explanation will be enough.

 

John goes stiff and then boneless, breathing out a quiet sigh just as Rodney comes.

 

“I haven’t come in my pants since I was fifteen,” John confesses.

 

“Fourteen,” Rodney replies smugly. “Candace. And she wasn’t impressed.”

 

John laughs then, his eyes crinkling, and he turns his face into Rodney’s shoulder, shaking helplessly. “Color me impressed, McKay,” John murmurs. “It’s not everybody who would take a vacation to babysit a kid they don’t even like.”

 

“I said I don’t like kids. I never said I didn’t like _your_ kid.”

 

John presses a kiss to the side of Rodney’s neck. “He’s kind of awesome, isn’t he?”

 

“Well, he is you in miniature,” Rodney says. “But not you at the same time.”

 

John makes a face. “That’s good to hear.”

 

Rodney rolls his eyes. “Seriously, he’s not you. He doesn’t have your memories, and I’ve been told that memories make the man.”

 

“If that’s the case, then he’s fucked,” John mutters.

 

Rodney frowns. “You don’t see it, do you?”

 

“See what?”

 

“I’ve never had anybody look at me the way Timos looks at you,” Rodney replies. “I never looked at my parents the way he looks at you. You’re good with him, John. You have a child, and you’re a good father. You’re a _great_ dad, as far as I can tell, having no experience outside my own, who was admittedly terrible.”

 

“After what Michael did?” John asks. “It’s my fault that Timos is in the middle of this.”

 

“It’s Michael’s fault,” Rodney insists. “Michael started this, and we’ll finish it.”

 

“And be grateful for it,” John murmurs.

 

“Something like that,” Rodney says, and then makes a face. “I need a shower.”

 

John laughs. “Yeah, me too. Want to save water?”

 

Rodney can’t refuse that offer.

 

The next morning is easy. After John leaves for the base, Rodney starts Timos on his lessons, gratified by how easily Timos picks up both reading and math. Rodney will have to start thinking about what they were going to do with Timos on Atlantis, how they’re going to make sure he excels.

 

From what Rodney’s seen, it’s pretty clear that Timos is incredibly bright, maybe even brilliant, and with the proper training and encouragement, he’ll go far.

 

But the leisurely morning passes, and they have to drive up to Denver to pick up Jeannie from the airport. On the way, Timos is fidgety and clearly freaked out in the backseat.

 

“What’s wrong?” Rodney asks bluntly.

 

“Is she going to like me?” Timos asks.

 

Rodney snorts. “You’re your father’s son. She’ll love you. Trust me.”

 

Timos gets the same small, secret smile that John sometimes wears. “Okay.”

 

“Hey, I like you,” Rodney feels compelled to add. “And I don’t normally like kids. Jeannie does. Therefore, it stands to reason that pretty much _everybody_ will like you.”

 

Timos grins. “Really?”

 

“Really.”

 

The Denver International Airport is busy, and Rodney checks the board and then stations them by the appropriate baggage claim. Timos shifts from foot to foot next to him, looking nervous.

 

Rodney puts a hand on his shoulder. “It’s going to be fine,” he promises.

 

Jeannie appears after about fifteen minutes with Madison in tow, and she pauses to give Rodney and then Timos a hug. “It’s nice to meet you,” Jeannie says to Timos, her voice warmer and more welcoming than Rodney remembers.

 

Then the baggage carousel begins moving, and Rodney helps Timos wrestle the suitcase off the line when Jeannie points it out.

 

“I hope you’re ready to have fun,” Jeannie says brightly.

 

Timos frowns. “What are we going to do?”

 

“Have you ever been swimming?” she asks.

 

“I don’t know how to swim,” Timos admits.

 

“We’ll fix that,” Jeannie promises.

 

The pool is indoors, so Rodney can’t complain about getting sunburned. Jeannie has brought water wings for Madison, but there’s no flotation device for Timos, so Rodney extracts a promise to stay in the shallow end.

 

Jeannie gets into the pool with the kids, teaching Timos how to float, and getting him comfortable before climbing out. Madison teaches Timos how to play tag, and they take turns seeing how long they can hold their breath.

 

Rodney has braced himself for Jeannie’s questions. “Okay, I know you told me he looked like John, but that’s uncanny.”

 

“And you’re surprised?” Rodney asks. “You’ve been to—where I’m stationed.”

 

“Yeah, but I was thinking he might have come from an alternate dimension,” Jeannie replies in a low voice. “That maybe he really was John’s son.”

 

“Nothing quite that prosaic,” Rodney says with more than a touch of sarcasm.

 

“So I can see,” Jeannie says. She stares at Timos speculatively, and Rodney suspects that she’s seeing his thin frame, the outline of his ribs and clavicles.

 

“We have been feeding him,” Rodney says defensively.

 

“How does John look?”

 

“Worse,” Rodney admits. “He hasn’t said as much, but he gave as much of their food to Timos as he could.”

 

Jeannie’s eyebrows go up. “And you can count his ribs?”

 

“Didn’t I just say as much?”

 

“And was there a reason you were in a position to do so?”

 

Too late, Rodney realizes that he’s given more away than he’d intended. “Jeannie—”

 

“You’re obviously happy,” Jeannie says. “That’s all I need to know. Although I kind of thought you’d go for Dr. Keller.”

 

“That’s what John said,” Rodney replies. “But it was always him. Maybe it always has been.”

 

~~~~~

 

The last thing John wants to do is go back to the SGC and the probing questions from the shrinks and those in charge. What he wants, more than anything, is to stay in bed next to Rodney, with Timos curled up next to them, or playing video games.

 

John wants to _forget_ , which is hard to do with Timos around, but with Rodney, John can pretend that Timos is his kid, that DADT doesn’t matter, that they can be together.

 

Rodney’s apartment is a sanctuary, a home away from home since they’re not on Atlantis, and he doesn’t want to leave.

 

Before John heads out, Rodney writes the name and address of Jeannie’s hotel on a scrap of paper, and he shoves it into his pocket. He carries it around with him all day like a talisman, reminding himself that when this is over, he’ll see Timos again, and he’ll see Rodney. He’ll see Jeannie, whom he likes a great deal.

 

He’ll be able to forget again.

 

“What did Michael want with you?”

 

John has forgotten the names of those who are sitting on the panel from the IOA. The first day, he’d been questioned by other soldiers who knew—in theory if not in practice—what it means to be tortured. Today, he’s facing diplomats, people who probably wouldn’t even admit that such things take place.

 

They certainly haven’t _been_ tortured.

 

“I told you,” John says wearily. “He wanted my gene.”

 

“And that’s all he wanted?”

 

This time, an Asian woman asks, and John thinks she’s the Chinese representative. The only reason he knows that much is that she’s Asian, and she’s a woman—the rest of them are men.

 

“Look,” John begins wearily. “I honestly couldn’t tell the difference between the torture and the medical testing. It pretty much felt the same to me, and the result was pretty much the same, too.”

 

“You have to know something more.”

 

Judging by the accent, that impatient comment comes from the French representative, and John feels his lips curl up in a snarl. “I know what Michael told me, which is what I’ve told _you_. If you think I’m lying—”

 

“Sheppard.” O’Neill has insisted on sitting next to him, and he puts a hand on John’s arm, fingers curling around his bicep. “Easy. No one is doubting your word.”

 

He realizes that he’s half out of his chair and sits back down, feeling the tension coiled in his muscles.

 

“That’s enough,” O’Neill says, a sharp rebuke in his voice. “You have the reports. You know what happened. This meeting is a courtesy that I have no problem revoking if you’re going to be assholes.”

 

John manages to hide his smile at that, mostly because he knows that the IOA reps are being dicks, and if he laughs, that’s going to undermine O’Neill’s rebuke. He’d much rather they back the hell off.

 

“We don’t doubt your word.” That’s from the British rep, and he sounds sincere enough, but he’s been pushing John for answers just as hard as the others. “We’re just confused as to what Michael really wanted.”

 

“You mean, you want to know whether I gave him what he wanted,” John replies. “You think I broke.”

 

“Didn’t you?” the woman asks.

 

John’s glad he doesn’t know her name, because when Rodney asks him about this later, he’s going to be able to honestly say that he doesn’t know. Otherwise, he’s pretty sure Rodney will ruin her life.

 

“You’re asking me if I’d have done anything to save a child’s life,” John replies, with as little emotion as he can manage. “You’re asking me if I would have betrayed my country—my _planet_ —to save Timos.”

 

They all look uncomfortable, and John presses his advantage. “The fact that you’re asking me that question tells me you’ve never been tortured, not for a prolonged period. When you’re in the same room with a child being tortured, and you’re hearing him begging for it all to stop—when that happens, _then_ you get to ask me that question.”

 

Everyone on the panel winces at that, and O’Neill steps in smoothly. “You have our reports from the debriefing, and you’ve all had the chance to ask your questions. Sheppard’s been through the wringer. Any other questions you have, they can go through me.”

 

John’s grateful for the shelter. It’s incredible to have a commanding officer he can actually trust for a change.

 

“Sheppard, you’re dismissed,” O’Neill says.

 

“Yes, sir.” John doesn’t need to be told twice. He salutes O’Neill, and then gets out of there as fast as he can. Somehow, he’s not surprised that Sam is waiting for him, with Teal’c at her side. “Hey.”

 

“Rough session?” Sam asks sympathetically.

 

John shrugs. “You could say that. I think I’m done, though. I’m supposed to meet Rodney and his sister at the hotel.”

 

“You want some company?” Sam asks. “I wouldn’t mind seeing Timos again.”

 

John hesitates, wondering if he should risk it. It would be one thing if Jeannie finds out that he and Rodney are together; it will be something else if Sam does.

 

Then again, he can’t think of a good reason to say no.

 

“Do you guys have swimming suits?”

 

“Give us the address, and we’ll meet you there,” Sam promised.

 

John has no idea how Teal’c is going to hide his tattoo, but he figures that’s not his problem. Mostly, he just wants to get to his kid and leave the day behind.

 

He doesn’t have a way to get into the pool area without a room key, but when he knocks, Timos pops out of the shallow end and starts for the door. From the way he slows to a very fast walk, John suspects someone has told him not to run.

 

“Daddy!”

 

John accepts an armful of wet Timos gratefully, feeling thin arms wind around his neck. “Hey, buddy.”

 

“Are you going to come swimming with me?”

 

“You bet,” John promises. He glances up to see Rodney and Jeannie watching him with amusement, and then he sees Madison hanging back shyly. “Hey, Madison. Remember me?”

 

“You’re Uncle John,” she says, approaching slowly. “You’re Uncle Rodney’s friend.”

 

John smiles. “Yeah, that’s right. Good to see you, Jeannie,” he says as he gets to his feet.

 

He’s surprised when she hugs him hard, holding on tightly longer than he expects.

 

“Uh, hi,” John manages.

 

Jeannie pulls back just enough to look him in the eyes. “I’m glad you’re okay. You _are_ okay, aren’t you?”

 

“Getting there,” John admits. “Thanks for coming.”

 

Jeannie shrugs. “I had to meet your kid. He’s a good one.”

 

“I think so.” He holds up his suit. “I should get changed.” He looks past Jeannie at Rodney. “I think Sam and Teal’c are coming.”

 

Rodney frowns. “Seriously?”

 

“They seemed interested. I don’t know what Teal’c is going to do, though.”

 

Rodney hitches a shoulder. “I guess we’ll see.”

 

John changes and wades into the shallow end of the pool, and finds himself with two kids to entertain. Madison’s had rudimentary swimming lessons, but Timos has never been in the water until today. Jeannie had taught him how to float, and he’s doing the doggy paddle, but John begins to teach both of them how to coordinate their arms and legs.

 

Sam shows up while he’s working with the kids with Teal’c, O’Neill and Cameron Mitchell in tow. John has met Mitchell on Atlantis, but he has no idea why the man tagged along.

 

“I tried to convince Daniel to come, but he’s not big on swimming,” Sam explains. “Nice to see you again, Jeannie.”

 

“You too, Colonel Carter,” Jeannie says.

 

“Call me Sam,” she invites.

 

To John’s surprise, O’Neill and Mitchell immediately change into their swim trunks. They’d brought a blow up beach ball, and some foam toys that the kids immediately put to use. Timos is a little wary at first, but he knows O’Neill, and he soon warms under Mitchell’s good ol’ boy charm. Madison seems to look at the three men like her personal jungle gym, climbing over them and letting them toss her around.

 

When Teal’c gets into the pool, he has a swim cap on, covering his tattoo. Not every guy could pull that off, but Teal’c’s gravitas makes it impossible to laugh at him. And with Teal’c there, the kids go crazy, being tossed from one person to the next, screaming in joy.

 

For the first time since Timos has come to John, he’s acting like a kid, just like any other kid, surrounded by their strange version of family. They’re joined by a couple of other families with a half a dozen kids, and John’s amused when the other parents settle into loungers around the pool, leaving John and the rest of them to play with them.

 

The pool is crowded, but Timos and Madison make friends with the others easily, and share their new toys. No one who sees Timos now would connect him with the clingy, fearful child he’d been after being in Michael’s clutches.

 

It’s good to know that Timos has some chance at being normal.

 

When dinnertime rolls around, they strip off their wet things and change into street clothes to hit up a burger joint down the street. Teal’c has exchanged his swim cap for a snazzy fedora, still exuding a cool attitude.

 

John wishes Teyla and Ronon were around, but he appreciates the company of the others, too. He knows what O’Neill and Sam are trying to do, what Rodney had been trying to do when he invited Jeannie, and he has to admit it’s easier not to think about what had happened with Michael when he’s surrounded by other people.

 

“So, what’s it like?” Mitchell asks him as an aside. “Being a dad so suddenly?”

 

“Interesting,” John replies, not inclined to spill his guts to a stranger, no matter how amiable. “But he’s a good kid.”

 

Mitchell looks away, off into the distance, and says, “I’m sure it helped, having someone around who gave a damn whether you were dead or alive.”

 

John hasn’t heard it put quite that way, but he has to admit that it did. “Yeah. It helps to have something else to focus on.”

 

“You know, we came tonight to let you know you weren’t alone,” Mitchell says. “There are a lot of us pulling for you, and for Timos.”

 

John’s momentarily speechless, and then he says, “Thanks.”

 

Mitchell shrugs. “Hey, this is the SGC. It could have been any of us.”

 

John laughs. “I guess so.”

 

“Look, you need someone to look after Timos while you’re tied up, just let me know,” Mitchell says. “I love kids, and he’s a good one.”

 

“You know, I’ve had a lot of people say just that.”

 

“Then it must be true,” Mitchell replies.

 

“Sheppard,” O’Neill calls. “We have confirmation on the doctor—two days. Take tomorrow off.”

 

“Yes, sir.” John is somehow going to need to find a way to explain to Timos how this is going to work, and figure out how to minimize the fallout.

 

And if this visit is anything like John’s visit with the base psychologists, it’s probably going to do more harm than good. He just has to keep remembering that this is a hoop to jump through.

 

They just have to get back to Atlantis.

 

“You know what you need to do tomorrow?” Mitchell asks. “Go-karts. There isn’t a kid in the world who doesn’t like go-karts.”

 

Timos frowns. “What’s a go-kart?”

 

“They’re awesome!” Madison says enthusiastically. “Can we go, Mom?”

 

Jeannie smiles indulgently. “I don’t know why not.”

 

Mitchell rubs his hands together. “Prepare to eat my dust, Sheppard.”

 

John grins in spite of himself. “No way, Mitchell. Timos and I are going to leave you so far behind, you won’t see us for a week.”

 

Timos giggles at that, and John meets Rodney’s eyes and smiles. Rodney grins broadly. “Are you kidding? I’m going to beat _all_ of you.”

 

And John will be able to forget for one more day.


	6. Chapter 6

Rodney would have preferred a day with just John, but he knows better than to protest. They have to be careful, and letting Mitchell and others tag along—no matter how annoying Rodney finds Mitchell—is a good way to make people think that he and John are just friends.

 

He’s surprised by how much fun he has, first with the go-karts, and then with mini-golf. He and John play video games and race cars through the hallways, but those are stolen moments. Rodney can’t remember the last time he’s spent several days in a row doing so very little work.

 

The break is nice, but he’s looking forward to getting back to his job, if only because it will mean that things are returning to normal.

 

And it turns out that Mitchell isn’t quite as annoying when he’s letting Timos beat him at go-karts.

 

But that night, they can’t put it off any longer. They have to talk to Timos.

 

Timos is still buzzing from the junk food Mitchell had bought for him when they get back to Rodney’s apartment after dropping Jeannie and Madison off at the hotel.

 

“That was _so cool_ ,” Timos says, almost bouncing. “Can we do it again? Please?”

 

“Maybe so,” John says. “If we can, we will. Can we talk to you for a minute? It’s pretty serious.”

 

Rodney can see all the excitement drain out of Timos in a moment. “Is it bad?”

 

John shakes his head. “No, it’s not bad. It’s just a little complicated. Come on, sit down.”

 

Timos crawls into John’s lap. “Am I in trouble?”

 

“No, no,” John says quickly. “But you know how I’ve been sharing the bed with Rodney?”

 

Timos frowns. “Yeah?”

 

“You can’t tell anybody about that,” John continues. “There are rules, and I might get into trouble.”

 

“Why?”

 

Rodney snorts. “Because the American military is full of homophobic assholes.”

 

John glares at him. “McKay—”

 

“It’s true,” Rodney defends. “They aren’t okay with two men loving each other.”

 

John flushes. “Okay, fine. But Timos, no one can know.”

 

“You love him?” Timos asks, looking at Rodney.

 

Rodney winces, uncomfortable. “Yes. I do.”

 

Timos nods. “Okay.”

 

“Aren’t you going to ask John if he loves me?” Rodney asks.

 

Timos frowns. “I knew _that_.”

 

John chuckles. “I might have mentioned you a time or two.”

 

“All right, then,” Rodney says. “But Timos, you understand, don’t you?”

 

Timos nods. “It’s a secret.”

 

“Can you keep a secret?” Rodney asks.

 

Some indefinable emotion crosses Timos’ face, and he looks very much like John at that moment. “Yes,” he replies with assurance. “I can keep a secret.”

 

“It’s important, because you need to talk to a doctor,” John says. “Remember when we talked about a doctor for the inside of your head?”

 

Timos nods.

 

“I need you to talk to the doctor,” John says. “Just be honest, at least about everything other than where I’m sleeping.”

 

Timos frowns. “I don’t want to talk to a doctor. I don’t need one.”

 

“I know you don’t, but they want to make sure you’re okay to go back to Atlantis,” John says. “It’s really important, Timos. Will you do it for me?”

 

Timos nods. “Okay, I guess.”

 

“It’s going to be fine,” John promises, although Rodney notices that he doesn’t sound too sure of that himself. “I can’t be in the room with you, but I’ll be close. If you need me, I’ll be there.” John pulls Timos into a tight hug. “Go get ready for bed, okay?”

 

“The doctor isn’t going to take him away from you,” Rodney says in a low voice once Timos is in the bathroom and the water is running. “I’m pretty sure the entire SGC is on your side. And you know I can make all their lives absolutely miserable until they give us what we want.”

 

“You can’t go around threatening generals and the IOA,” John protests, but there’s a smile tilting his lips just slightly.

 

“Watch me,” Rodney replies.

 

They don’t do anything that night, other than exchanging a few kisses. Rodney can tell that John is preoccupied and anxious over the mandatory visit with the psychologist, and it makes sense. At least John knows what to expect from a psychologist’s probing; Timos doesn’t.

 

John tosses and turns and finally goes out to the living room around 2 am. Rodney drops off almost immediately after John leaves, but finds that he misses waking up next to John in the morning. When he emerges from the bedroom, John is making coffee, dark circles under his eyes and deep lines around his eyes and mouth.

 

“Hey,” he says when he sees Rodney. “Did you sleep okay?”

 

Rodney shrugs. “Well enough, I guess. Did you sleep at all?”

 

“Maybe an hour or two,” he admits. “I’ll be okay. I think O’Neill is running interference for me with the generals and the IOA.”

 

“Good,” Rodney says. “It’s about time someone did.”

 

“It has to be done,” John replies.

 

Rodney shakes his head. “This needs to be the end,” Rodney insists. “They can’t keep dicking you around, John.”

 

“That’s how these things work,” John replies. “The debriefing is almost as bad as the torture.”

 

Rodney frowns. “Come on.”

 

“The IOA overstepped their bounds the other day,” John admits. “I told them off, and O’Neill told them where to shove it. He seemed to indicate that this is the last hurdle.”

 

“I’m coming with you,” Rodney insists.

 

John smiles. “Thanks, McKay. What about Jeannie?”

 

“We’re meeting her to go swimming again this afternoon,” Rodney points out, “and she understands.”

 

“She knows,” John observes.

 

“She guessed. She’ll keep our secret.” Rodney reaches for John, putting a hand on his shoulder, his thumb caressing the side of John’s neck. “I’ve got some ideas for advancing Timos’ education when we get back to Atlantis.”

 

John rests his forehead against Rodney’s. “You’re so sure we’re going back.”

 

“Of course.” Rodney feels John’s hand at his waist. “Super-genius here, remember?”

 

John huffs a laugh. “How could I forget?”

 

~~~~~

 

John isn’t sure who had arranged to have the interrogation room decorated with a low, child-sized table and brightly colored beanbag chairs. Or who had put out a stack of paper and a large tub of crayons out.

 

“We’ve got to go talk to the doctor,” John says. “You going to be okay here for a few minutes?”

 

Timos nods, but his expression is uncertain. “Are you going to be okay?”

 

John smiles and ruffles his hair. “Don’t worry about me, kiddo. I’ve got Rodney and General O’Neill watching my back.”

 

When he enters the observation room, he finds Rodney, O’Neill, Landry, and a woman who has to be the doctor waiting for him.

 

“Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard, Dr. Colleen Maly,” Landry says.

 

Maly is a petite, compact woman with bright red hair and a cheerful grin. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Colonel Sheppard,” she says, shaking his hand with a firm grip.

 

“Doctor,” John replies neutrally, wearing his most charming smile. “Thanks for coming.”

 

“Well, it’s not often the US Air Force offers an all-expenses paid trip,” Maly replies. “I want you to know I’ve treated many children who have been traumatized, including kids who have been tortured.”

 

John grimaces. “I’m not sure that makes me feel better.”

 

“The doc here has read your file,” O’Neill says. “At least, the parts that aren’t classified as top secret.”

 

John raises an eyebrow. _Most_ of his file is classified, but he assumes that the SGC has told her enough to let her make an honest evaluation. “Timos has been through the ringer, ma’am,” he says quietly. “I appreciate your sensitivity.”

 

“I’m not here to hurt him, Colonel,” she assures him. “I’m just here to make sure he’s getting all the help he needs.”

 

“And how would you know what he needs?” Rodney asks from the corner of the room, having been curiously quiet up until that point. “You’ve never met him.”

 

“No, but I am an expert in child psychology and trauma,” she replies pleasantly enough. “Colonel? Maybe you can make the introductions.”

 

John nods, figuring that the sooner they get started, the sooner they can finish. “Sure.”

 

Timos glances up suspiciously as they enter. “Is this her?”

 

John tries to hide his smile. “This is Dr. Maly. She’s the doctor for the inside of your head.”

 

When John nudges him, Timos stands and holds out his hand politely. “Nice to meet you.”

 

“It’s very nice to meet you, too,” Maly replies.

 

“I don’t need a doctor,” Timos asserts.

 

Maly smiles. “You probably don’t, but there are some people who are worried that you do, and it’s always better to be safe than sorry.”

 

Timos sighs. “I guess so.”

 

Maly glances at John. “I think I can take it from here, Colonel Sheppard.”

 

John nods. “I’ll be close,” he promises. “Just answer the questions as best you can.”

 

John retreats to the observation room, and Maly is already seated at the table, beginning to draw a picture. “I like drawing, too,” she says. “Do you want to draw a picture?”

 

“I guess we can,” Timos replies begrudgingly.

 

“Do you know why I’m here?” Maly asks.

 

“You’re a doctor for the inside of my head,” Timos replies.

 

Maly smiles. “That’s right. How old are you, Timos?”

 

Timos shrugs. “I don’t know. I don’t remember.”

 

Landry sighs. “I knew this was a bad idea.”

 

“Then why didn’t you fight this a little harder?” O’Neill demands.

 

Landry shakes his head. “Because it seemed like a good idea at the time.”

 

“Then you agree with me,” O’Neill says. “We’re done after this.”

 

Landry shrugs. “After this, yes, we’re done. If she clears it, Timos goes back to Atlantis with Colonel Sheppard.”

 

John turns. “Wait. I can go back on duty after this?”

 

“Oh, no, Sheppard. You’re still going to be on vacation for the full month,” O’Neill insists. “You’ll thank me for it later. You need time to be with your kid.”

 

John glances at Rodney. “You okay with staying?”

 

“I told you I had leave to burn,” Rodney replies.

 

John smiles and turns his attention back to Maly and Timos, who is asking, “How come Daddy can’t be here?”

 

“Sometimes we’re more honest if we’re talking to someone we don’t know well,” Maly replies. “We don’t have to protect people we don’t know like we protect the people we love.”

 

Timos frowns at that. “Superheroes protect everybody.”

 

“Yes, they do. Is that what you want to be?”

 

Timos deflects by saying, “My daddy is a superhero. He protects everybody.”

 

“Did he protect you?” Maly counters

 

John stiffens and feels Rodney step up next to him at the observation window. “You don’t have to do this,” Rodney says softly. “You can go wait out in the hall, and I’ll watch.”

 

John shakes his head. “I can’t. I have to stay.”

 

Timos hasn’t responded to the question, instead focusing on the paper in front of him and the crayon in his hand.

 

“You know, sometimes even a superhero can’t protect everybody,” Maly says gently. “That’s not a failure. That’s just how life works out sometimes.”

 

Timos doesn’t reply, ignoring her in favor of searching out a new crayon.

 

“It’s okay to be angry with your dad, you know,” Maly says, her tone low. “It’s perfectly natural.”

 

Timos bursts into motion, sweeping the box of crayons off the table with his arm, scattering them across the floor. “You don’t know anything!”

 

Maly isn’t fazed. “What don’t I know, Timos?”

 

“It’s my fault!” Timos shouts.

 

John feels the blood drain from his face.

 

“What’s your fault?” Maly asks gently. “Why?”

 

“Michael _told_ me,” Timos shouts. “If John didn’t have me around, he could have escaped, and then he wouldn’t have been hurt. He got hurt _every single day_ because I was too slow!”

 

Landry makes a sound from behind John. “I didn’t think Michael got his hands on Timos without you around.”

 

“I—I didn’t remember it,” John mutters. He pinches the bridge of his nose. “There was a day,” he says slowly. “I was too sick, delirious. I didn’t remember until now. I—”

 

He felt sick now, wondering how many days he’d missed without knowing it.

 

“When you’re tortured, the days seem to blend into each other,” O’Neill says gently. “It’s okay, Sheppard.”

 

Timos’ face is twisted up now. “Michael said he’d made me to keep John under control! He told me that if we left, I’d die, but I thought it would be better! He’d be okay without me holding him back. John _has_ to go back to Atlantis. He _has_ to, and if he doesn’t, it will be _my_ fault. It’s all my fault.”

 

At this point, John doesn’t give a rat’s ass what the IOA or the SGC wants. He needs to get to his son, and he bursts through the door and sweeps Timos into his arms.

 

“You kept me alive,” John mutters into Timos’ hair. “You were the only reason I stayed alive. It’s okay. It’s not your fault. It was never your fault, not any of it.”

 

Timos sobs into John’s shoulder, and John holds him tight, rocking him slowly, not caring who saw them or what they thought.

 

~~~~~

 

Maly storms into the observation room, her expression thunderous. “I get needing to keep me in the dark about certain things, but you didn’t tell me _half_ of what I needed to know!”

 

O’Neill holds up his hands, as though in surrender. “You understand why I couldn’t divulge all the details.”

 

“It would have helped to know Timos was a clone!” Maly shoots back. “And it would have helped to know even a little more than I already did. I wouldn’t have taken the tack I had.”

 

“How is he?” Landry asks.

 

Maly rolls her eyes. “He’s traumatized, and he thinks it’s his fault. In a sense, he’s right, because if I understood that correctly, he was created with the sole purpose of controlling Colonel Sheppard.”

 

“That doesn’t make it his fault,” Rodney says hotly.

 

Maly sighs. “It’s not his fault, but I can see why he would think it is. Look, Timos probably could use long term counseling, but more than that, he needs people who love him, who can tell him over and over again that it’s not his fault.” She waves at the observation window. “It looks like he has that, and from what I’ve gathered, Timos isn’t going to be in the area long.”

 

“Then Colonel Sheppard is an appropriate guardian,” Landry says.

  
Maly snorts. “If you ask me, the colonel is the _only_ guardian. If you remove Timos from his custody, Timos will believe that he’s right, and that he doesn’t deserve to be with Sheppard, or that he doesn’t want him. If it’s at all possible for Colonel Sheppard to retain custody, he should.” She waves at the window. “Just look at them.”

 

Rodney looks through the window and sees John sprawled on one of the beanbag chairs, Timos in his lap, the boy’s face buried in his shoulder. John strokes Timos’ hair and his back, his mouth moving in what Rodney can only assume are reassurances, Timos’ small fingers clutching John’s shirt.

 

“Let’s give them the time they need,” O’Neill says. “McKay, let me know when they’re ready to leave. I think this whole thing calls for ice cream.”

 

Maly sighs. “Let Colonel Sheppard know that I’m sorry to have pushed the way I did. I’ll be happy to talk to him when he’s ready—if he’s ready—and the same goes for Timos.”

 

Rodney enters the room quietly, and pulls over a second chair, ignoring the creaking of his knees and the popping of his spine as he lowers himself onto the child-size chair.

 

“Hey,” John says wearily.

 

Rodney nods and says, “Timos.” When the boy doesn’t look up, Rodney says again, “ _Timos_.”

 

Timos lifts his tearstained face to look at Rodney. “What?”

 

“Have I ever lied to you?” he asks.

 

Timos shakes his head. “No.”

 

“Then believe me when I say that none of this was your fault,” Rodney says. “And that you kept John alive until we could rescue you. I owe you for that.”

 

Timos shakes his head, his eyes filling with tears. “But Michael said—”

 

“Michael was a lying bastard,” Rodney says, his voice low and fierce. “It doesn’t matter how you came to be here, we _want_ you here.”

 

“Really?” Timos asks.

 

Rodney nods. “You’re part of our team, remember?”

 

Timos launches himself at Rodney, thin arms going around Rodney’s neck, and Rodney holds him back, meeting John’s eyes over the top of Timos’ head.

 

Rodney sees the gratitude in John’s eyes, and he wishes he could kiss John now, but they can’t, not while under the watchful eyes of the SGC.

 

“O’Neill said something about ice cream, when we’re ready,” Rodney says.

 

Timos doesn’t let go, though, and John smiles and touches Rodney’s hand, where it rests on Timos’ back, connecting all of three of them.

 

~~~~~

 

After the tumultuous morning, John’s grateful for the quiet afternoon. O’Neill somehow manages to get ice cream—really good ice cream—delivered to the commissary. Maly joins them and redeems herself by telling stories about her travels in Africa, entertaining Timos with tales of seeing various creatures.

 

“If your dad hasn’t taken you to the zoo yet, you should ask him to,” Maly says. “You’ll love it.”

 

“I think that can be arranged,” John says, before Timos starts begging. “Maybe tomorrow, with Jeannie and Madison.”

 

“You should enjoy your vacation,” O’Neill insists. “You’re done here, as far as I’m concerned. No more hoops, Sheppard.”

 

That afternoon, they join Jeannie at the hotel, and John gives more swimming lessons, teaching Madison and Timos the breaststroke, until they can both cross the length of the pool.

 

Jeannie and Rodney work on one of Rodney’s projects with a remarkable lack of acrimony.

 

And it’s good, better than John could have hoped for.

 

They grab dinner at the restaurant next door to the hotel, the kids and John still slightly damp, with Timos cheerful, the morning trauma forgotten.

 

“So, the zoo tomorrow,” Jeannie says. “And then I think Maddie and I will head home the next day. You guys seem to have things under control here.”

 

John smiles. “I guess we do.”

 

That night, after they’ve put Timos to bed and retreated to Rodney’s bedroom, John says, “Timos is probably going to have nightmares tonight.”

 

“Then we’ll keep this short,” Rodney replies, and strips John down with his clever hands. “But one of these days, we’re going to have to find a way to take our time.”

 

“Maybe when Teyla and Ronon come,” John replies. “Timos might be more comfortable with them.”

 

Rodney smiles. “The stories you told. I want to hear them someday,” and then he fists John’s cock.

 

John arches up into Rodney’s touch and fumbles Rodney’s pants open to return the favor. “How about now?”

 

“How about later?” Rodney counters.

 

They jack each other off without any other words being exchanged, and John relaxes into Rodney’s touch. They have three weeks left, three weeks to learn each other’s bodies, to enjoy a life free of Wraith, and free of emergencies.

 

They’ll deal with the rest of it when they get back to Atlantis, but John is grateful for what they have right now.

 

Rodney comes first over John’s fist, but he somehow manages to keep his own rhythm. John covers Rodney’s hand with his own, varying the pace to bring his orgasm on faster.

 

John fishes around for a t-shirt to clean them both off, and then they pull on boxers and clean t-shirts in case Timos comes in.

 

He falls asleep almost immediately, but is woken up by whimpers from the living room, and he disentangles himself from Rodney to go to Timos.

 

Shaking Timos awake, John isn’t surprised when Timos clings to him, unwilling to let go. “Come on,” John murmurs. “It’s okay.”

 

He carries Timos back to the bedroom and lays him in between him and Rodney. “You’re safe now,” John murmurs, holding Timos close. “You’re safe. We both are.”

 

Rodney murmurs and rolls over, throwing an arm across John’s waist, sandwiching Timos between them.

 

And John believes what he’s saying.

 

They’re safe.


	7. Epilogue

The warm Hawaii sun is strong and welcoming, burning out the rest of his uneasiness. It helps to have Teyla and Ronon here.

 

Teyla has Torren on the shore, dangling his small feet in the waves that creep up the white sand beach. Ronon helps Timos swim out to catch the next wave, calling out instructions as John stays on shore, his rented surfboard under his arm, watching the proceedings.

 

Rodney is on the beach, under an umbrella, fingers flying over his keyboard on his laptop. John is fairly sure that he’s working on another article, to be released after declassification, which is happening in the next couple of years, if the rumors are to be believed.

 

And John is standing between sea and shore, watching all of it.

 

“Daddy, watch me!” Timos calls. “Look at me!”

 

John waves and watches as Timos manages to catch a wave, lasting a few seconds before he falls off the board. He pops up almost immediately, a bright grin on his face. Timos grabs his board and paddles up to shore. “Did you see?”

 

“You did great, son,” John says, putting an arm around him. “You’re going to be a pro in no time.”

 

Timos flings his arm around John’s waist. “Are you coming?”

 

“Soon,” John promises. “Let’s watch Ronon first.”

 

Ronon catches a wave with enviable athleticism and rides the wave into shore. “Sheppard! Come on!”

 

John glances over his shoulder at Rodney, who lifts a hand, even though he doesn’t look up from the screen of his laptop. Tonight, John will sneak through the connecting door of their hotel room and steal a few hours.

 

In a few weeks, they’ll all be back on Atlantis, and they’ll have to find a way to be together without raising too many red flags—even if most people are willing to overlook the obvious.

 

Eventually, what happened with Michael will be a distant memory, one that might cause a little pain, but that wouldn’t hurt the way it does now.

 

Eventually, maybe, it wouldn’t hurt at all.

 

And maybe the light would chase out the lingering darkness.

 

He paddles out with Ronon and Timos on either side, and feels as though he’s meeting his future.

 

It’s going to be a good one, he can tell.


End file.
